Tag Archives: free verse

Some Sadnesses Can’t be Helped

Unbearable sadness: broken-legged doe, brain-hurt sparrow, wounded crow. On days like this, some images of sadness simply wash away memory of flight. Here’s the exit: the hurt doe led, fed by a second in the silence of snow– Quartets of … Continue reading

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Hold On

Hold on now. Slide low and slow, Still as winter draperies Into the quiet years, Where meditation Heals it all. Not for us Now we’ve learned The running after cures That cure nothing Leaves no breath For singing. Simple songs, … Continue reading

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Fear Scars

My son, you are my heart out walking in the hard world. My belle-fille, you are also now my heart as you carry the heart of my son. My petit-fils, you are the greatness of the love in both of … Continue reading

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Time and Touch

I had a body once Yes, this one here Whose edges are transparent Whose center doesn’t hold. I failed to love it then While it was solid While it loved me And did all I asked. Now only you find … Continue reading

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Pisgah Forest

Leaf-filtered sun Spangles eddies Along the stream edge Where tiny black minnows Feed as they fin High frequencies. Breath of water Fanning silt Overflows smooth rocks– Leaves give themselves Wetly to currents Remembering breezes. Forest silences sing In syntax of … Continue reading

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Evil

That face wiped clean of pork grease and meaning glares down still on every victim of its own inanity that but for a typo is writ larger: Insanity.

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Winter Crows

Crows flow on grey silk skies sleep on wings of wind berate side-blown leaves seeking loving imitation. Soon the Great Wheel turns rivers of crows will ride currents of heavy snow midnight warmth riding frost. Then we will huddle in … Continue reading

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A Photograph Taken in Cambridge

Light lies slant Having crept between the curtains To make much of dark wood and butternuts To make one small photograph glow– We two stood against a low wall in Cambridge Not seeing the beloved of our son Fix our … Continue reading

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Forgive Me

If in this murder-stained house Where bricks fly through windows Where tires are regularly slashed Where gardens are defoliated Where nonetheless we stay Where we exercise hopefulness Where we repair, replant, retire We also close our gates to the darkness.

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This Old Hound

We understand each other This old hound and I With our aging– Hell, aged joints And our life-long struggle To make ourselves understood. She of the long toes Of the curved claws Of the loud voice– She who must be … Continue reading

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