Words

Tree in Winter

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You will be here again. Your eyes closed in brightening light from a window, open in winter. Magenta blooms lidded, your forehead held by a shoulder put forward...

The Rocking Chair Song

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Be aware of the midnight knock, the one that sends you breathless out under moth veiled streetlights, no time to grab a toothbrush or...

River Crossing

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This morning, I ran to the edges through the tall grassss across                    the          ...

Thanksgiving

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Thanks for stoplights, to notice pink waves of dawn, reflected from sandstone foothills, that drift across my windshield Thanks for hold buttons, for forced moments to focus...

Mother’s Persian Rugs

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Mother wouldn’t have liked those three men— with their long grizzly beards and big Milwaukee guts, not to mention the mud they tracked all over Mother’s Persian rugs. That day it...

‘So, You’re a Poet’

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Don’t read into the title, “So, You’re a Poet,” just see it for what it is. There’s no question mark, no other words. It’s...

Colorado Goddamn

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Dear Nina, Two years in, milady, and all Boulder has taught me is that keeping up with the Joneses still keeps one oblivious to the...

Understandable

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Uppermost in almost anybody’s mind these days (Not to impute Platonic shape to space) Desire (as if it were a thing) will blaze Entre nous anew, prognosticating...