Poetry
Violation
“I’d twist it inside out, this coil that led me on and on, and brings me back To the red bud of his buttonhole, a shower of red confetti. Or to this scenario of her as Wolf, and me as … Continue reading
Everlasting
Dry October, the shallows move across briary ground so lightly, slowly, there are cloud flowers on the bedrock. On the stream bank, lichen the color of litmus leafs out on stones, and in that tough company here’s the pearly everlasting, … Continue reading
On Looking into Golding’s Ovid
It’s still the same – he turns, she turns – the end of a candle burns, maybe, in the eye socket of a severed head. It’s still the same wedding guests who fill these straw canoes, who float down river … Continue reading
Househusbandry
Early this morning when I idled around the house Behind the carpenters, they were in rhythm, As is only right, with the laws of square and shim And shore-up, all oblivious of the hours Of kneel and back-bend you had … Continue reading
They Dwell in the Blue Abiding Light
They dwell in the blue abiding light that surrounds them like a field. They have earned the right to rest here, getting what they didn’t get in life, deep and hushed respect. They float in the blue abiding light unworthy … Continue reading
Sparrow Eats Fried Chicken Wing
Roses snag bricks, hook hats. The caretaker does not smile. The hostess does not cook. We, overdressed, might layer down to Jefferson, to Berkeley even, jug shards of Jamestown. Only al fresco. Coifed boxwoods arch politely. Bird house admits wrens … Continue reading
Yonder
Summer nights, I still smell the honeysuckle at the edge of her voice when she called me to listen to the bob-whites across the field, their call and response a way to measure the interval between dusk and white blaze … Continue reading
Singing Lessons
This is the executioner’s hour, deep noon, hard light, Everything edge and horizon-honed, Windless and hushed, as though a weight were about to fall, And shadows begin to slide from beneath things, released In their cheap suits and eager to … Continue reading
The Admirer
September, 1926, clear He had before come courting – with pecans or peaches, berries. She had those times been able to thank him with one of her pies and be done with him. For this, though, he would want supper, … Continue reading
Halloween Moon Over Huddle Knob Graveyard
Skinny McCaudle is called forth on Huddle And in his bone hand his skedaddle fiddle That used to put cloggers to their sweaty mettle Cries out again While the moon swoops out of the wind And the wind swoons into … Continue reading