Category Archives: Other

Backflow

A valve by any other name would not check love less sweetly:

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Detritus Redeemed

My dusty green       second-hand             campchair is planted in       weedy gravel

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Erratic

for Jon Hawley, the Armchair Traveler Wait. Slow down a bit. I’d like to talk.

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Zebra Cake

Four years old,      and I’ve already been schooled.

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Picked for You

after Mary Powell The matron’s eyes are dark, and hollow. Her skirt is an indistinct pleated gray, while a darted white blouse billows below the boat-necked breast and above an elasticized waist.

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I Come from the Dry Valley

after the lady Skagit Sunlight floods half the road on which I travel; a shadow cast by the guardrail obscures my lane— the westbound side, which rushes past bitterbrush, bluebunch wheat grass, ponderosa, and sandstone. This Methow thirst can consume … Continue reading

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Southern Cross: A Poet Breaking Silence

(after Francis Thompson) Imagine a night sky in the Barrens       without the North Star. Imagine that Zeus had never thrown       Callisto into the sky,

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Cashmere Easter

Orchards hang in the evening air, splayed along alluvial bottomland like sagging, vast, corporeal mists, ordered rows of sentient sentinels.

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Strachur Entreaty

Boxing Day, 2002. You lie on the gatehouse chaise adoze by a compact fire that I stoke in your silence. To sleep, perchance to dream…

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What You Will

I come not to you with words of wisdom       but with words that unseal doors

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