GRAVE POEM: EDITH MUDGET… How is it that I, who kept my hou… And, indeed, my life, and the live… Of my family, in perfect order; I, who made the beds before they w…
Nature’s snowy gown Melts into a silky pool Spring’s passion awakes
come sit beneath my branches and read to me from dead poets for I am old all texture and symmetry a conspiracy of cocoons
(Based on the fact that 95% of household dust is our own skin cel… flakes of me circling in the sunli… bits of you lying on the bureau gather them in a beaker
seek the council of wild things in… leaves that turn their silver side… before the rain slender reeds that accept and bend they will sew your words abroad
In the lamplight leaf shadows break on the ragged edges of my heart
Pappa always told me that you should never tell all you… and I found it to be good advice I recall the time I got back from… with my winter stores back in ‘39
My queen for a day My man’s is in drag again Halloween party
Clouds on horizon Now and then a shorebird’s cry On buffeting wind
once the larvae have hatched how long can they survive without… each day I go forceps in hand to count the dead
Tide tickling sun’s wake Under a thin skin of ice Beach disappearing
Life has a way of playing the vile… Or, providing an evener, some migh… I, who did not want to go to war, Seeing the senselessness of it, Stayed at home to work the farm -
we saw your burnished footprints in the soft beach sand followed them across the sea and through the shattered sky beyo… ‘one small step for man’, he said
how pathetic to be born without wings such gifts should be for womankind, too
Beneath that secretive smile A strong hot thrust From a sidewalk grate….
