#Americans #Women
I have banked the fires of my body into a small but steady blaze here in the kitchen where the dough has a life of its…
I want to write you a love poem as headlong as our creek after thaw when we stand
When our cars touched When you lifted the hood of mine To see the intimate workings under… When we were bound together By a pulse of pure energy,
January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,
It was early May, I think a moment of lilac or dogwood when so many promises are made it hardly matters if a few are bro… My mother and father still hovered
Pierre Bonnard would enter the museum with a tube of paint in his pocket and a sable brush. Then violating the sanctity of one of his own frames
For Jews, the Cossacks are always… Therefore I think the sun spot on… is melanoma. Therefore I celebrat… New Year’s Eve by counting my annual dead.
Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,
The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light
1. THE SACRIFICE On this tile the knife like a sickle-moon hangs in the painted air
We think of hidden in a white dres… among the folded linens and sachet… of well-kept cupboards, or just ou… sending jellies and notes with no… to all the wondering Amherst neigh…
After Adam Zagajewski I am child to no one, mother to a… wife for the long haul. On fall days I am happy with my dying brethren, the leaves…
What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, loping along beside you as you wobbled away
When they taught me that what matt… was not the strict iambic line goo… over the page but the variations in that line and the tension produ… on the ear by the surprise of diff…