Tag Archives: poetry

Where to Begin, And When to Harvest

In Memoriam: Robert Smith I see you in an old photo Young and gangling in overalls Standing in a field, hands on hips, Considering where to begin The planting and when to harvest. I see you in an oil lamp’s … Continue reading

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A North Wind Ravels

Midnight and now the full moon falls Down the other side of the sky. A north wind ravels skeins of snow Along the river frozen black. A dead spruce stands among the fir In snow here up to their green … Continue reading

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November Rain

I can’t quite remember the rhythms Our pulses beat together at night. All I hear now is November rain, Thready and erratic in the eaves.

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After

No one alive now remembers Rain on their skin in October Or how it varnished ochre larch. The slow rise and fall of water Moving with the moon over sand, The deep breaths of a pensive sea. The languid foreplay … Continue reading

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Into the Narrow Days

It’s September now and the rain, After the heat of the summer, has got The dead rattling above their graves. The rain and its weekend gyrations To hurricane winds left the dead swaying Under the white of a wall-eyed moon. … Continue reading

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On Earth As It Is

Your father’s deaf as ever now And he still mumbles the same old stuff About bliss and sacrifice and debt and how This dust of stars is just his dandruff. His forehead is dry and creased now Above a nose … Continue reading

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A Window is Open

I wake, and a window is open. Out on the wires two crows are invoking A moon from billions of years ago. Their voices are harsh from old hoping That wells in their throats and keeps them choking On words … Continue reading

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