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By the Stone Path

       By the Stone Path   The morning glories do not have to pray Or chant a sutra in a scarlet voice In sunlight, do not even need a sway From breezes.  They are holiness, no choice Or sacred regimen, the sort that monks Or nuns indulge required.  Blooms’...

cows two days before a funeral

        cows two days before a funeral Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem  Proverbs 26:11 When Queen Elizabeth is dead, brown cows Will, still, be lying in the Windsor fields. The autumn fields will hint...

Sleeping

                           Sleeping   On top, a pale, thin blanket, gray; below A plain white sheet, and next a pink, strong pink And white-striped nightie, then the scratched up dough Of old-age flesh, no use to try to prink Her up with wig or Positano clothes She...

At Last

                    At Last “The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world” ~ Edgar Allan Poe Although her hair has not been tinted or Recolored, it has lavender inside It, peeking out toward death’s wide...

Earendel

                                    Earendel Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem This morning star exploded in the dark Of ancient space, exploded, formed and shone Before the orbs that we have known, a...

Uhtceare

                 Uhtceare . . . . .l He lies awake and not, awake but not In decent consciousness, more nightmarish His bed.  He feels entrapped inside a slot Of evils, waking worries, angst, garish In coldest heat.  This looms, sorrow before The dawn, in darkness...