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Evidence

This poem is in response to a “wordle” prompt from Big Tent Poetry. I wasn’t really expecting the words to take me in this direction (a bit dark), but decided to flow with it. As always, feedback is...

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At Dusk on the Cusp of Winter

This poem was based on Big Tent Poetry’s Oct. 11 prompt to create a poem using some or all of the following words: purple, hook, extract, glossy, muddy, staircase, doll, bitter, kiss, gourd, pluck,...

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For Lack of Perishing

We listened with all our strength until we could hear the hearts of this hurried city shimmering. Fainter, and alone again, soon we heard bitter disappointment floating in the deep night. Out of the...

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Mercy

This is not a poem about angels though they gather like dusk around this wrecked planet. It’s about boxing and dogfights (forgive us) but also Mozart and Penicillin and walking on the moon. This is not...

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December Inkling

Bark of white birches full of dark eyes, branches’ long shadows genuflect at the precipice of night. I imagine birds huddled, if not amorous at least forgetting their mission. The ground is crusted...

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Small Stone 12

Twice today I heard references to graves and mortality on the radio. Both times I thought of my mom, who is 78, and felt a mix of dread and deep sadness. It’s winter. It’s cold. Can we please talk...

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Six and Twenty Blackbirds

Six and Twenty Blackbirds Flecks of ink in bare trees, blackbirds haunt the schoolyard. Swings hang red, plastic-still over untroubled snow, silence. We pretend we have answers, but blame, like birds’...

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