Tag Archives: Poetry

Dreaming of Margaret

There are no ghosts for me to fear. When you arrive here, mid-dream, post- midnight, you appear whole and rested, your mind ready and quick as ever. We get on with things. You are dressed in our favorite shade of … Continue reading

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JUST BEYOND THE GARDEN GATE

I ate that apple, whole. I spit its tiny black seeds into my hands. Later, I’ll plant them to see what clay makes, other than that creature who found me here, blaming me for that ache in his side, and … Continue reading

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ANGELS PASSING TIME

for Meme, 1920-2015 Birds flew, like checkmarks in the sky marking off the clouds. Where I stand, I can close one eye and squint. I find your face, drifting in the light. Birds travel so quickly and far, to a … Continue reading

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Orders

what did I mean to save that day I stood pounding your chest, fired by urgency that was not love but habit a current that ran once? I felt it for years even after it had stopped and you could … Continue reading

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Steel

I was forged by desire, hot, molten, flaming that lovers stoked at their own risk. They melted into me. I was hammered by love, reduced by its aftermath. My leaden feet lifted by force of will, I learned to dance … Continue reading

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What Fire Was Like

    What we needed, we did not want. What we wanted, we did not need. Whatever safety I sought in you Did not exist there. We were in a cold room, two sticks for hearts. When they rubbed together, … Continue reading

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What the Poor Do

My poem, What the Poor Do, in The New Verse News.    

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Supermoon, for Joyce

The air is so heavy Even the well notice the labor of the lungs, and all we take for granted, that our machines in their molecular perfection might run forever. Cicadas’ summer roar reminds us of forces beyond our control. … Continue reading

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I Knew More Then Than I Know Now: C4Atlanta, Day 3

Just under the wire, responding to the question of my favorite work–my own piece of writing. This question reminds me of the hedging that sometimes occur when people ask about favorite children; as the mother of six, I have come … Continue reading

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Talking to the Moon

I was talking to the moon, Interrupted by clouds and dark, even the stars blinked out of sight. She was so familiar. It seemed words were hardly necessary. She tilted into the sky, so inviting, her cratered face open, she … Continue reading

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