by phillipw | Feb 16, 2020 | HE
Craving As complicated as arrangements for A funeral, desire is often not Observed impassively by victims. Sore And broken ribs are known by the distraught Too thoroughly. Though doctors can perceive The cracks by using X-rays, keenest pain Eludes...
by phillipw | Feb 16, 2020 | BI
Why Hen Birds Don’t Warble Among the leaves, the limbs and branches birds Are singing. Everywhere these creatures perch Cocks make their sounds. The pulsing throats send words To others of their kind, from oak and birch And fence and hedgerow, saying, “Stop! This...
by phillipw | Feb 15, 2020 | DI, EM, JO, KE
Unfinished Symphonies All lives are incomplete, not just the life Of Keats—or Emily in Amherst locked In circumstance. Chance wields the palette knife And even genius finds its choices balked By limitations of the oil paints That fate provides. The colors on...
by phillipw | Feb 15, 2020 | DE, MO
Intaglio How beautiful a piece of art can make Death seem. The words can lift us up like love, A suffering love of purity. They shake Us like a virgin prophetess above Our passion, this especially if they Are elevated by the melodies of voice. When...
by phillipw | Feb 15, 2020 | HE, WH
Strokes My mother is an oval brooch now. She Is carved from colors like those pralines made Of deep brown sugar and pecans. We see Her head, the blonder layer in the shade Of beeswax in the silhouette above The darker ground behind her profile...
