It was in that time
Of the reddening leaf,
The dot-matrix dance of the grackle,
Sun fade and found hours,
That we met, Continue reading “Seasoning”
Tag: poem
Unopened
It was not even ten o’clock,
And the coyotes called to one another
In the cow pasture. I told you
About it. I told you because you say
You are a werewolf,
Your breath hinting of the moon, Continue reading “Unopened”
Strange Beauty
for Lea, 9-9-1962 to 8-30-2012
It is late October, and a red rose bush
Is blooming on the south side of her house,
In that best place for the light. I remember
How she could draw a flower
When we were in high school, a few
Simple strokes and strange beauty appeared. Continue reading “Strange Beauty”
Her Kind
The fourth poet chair for the museum that I made is Anne Sexton’s, based on her poem “Her Kind.”
Her Kind
I have gone out, a possessed witch
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light; Continue reading “Her Kind”
In Indian Territory
You show me the basket your mother made,
The light color of the cane entwined with the dyed scarlet,
All so evenly spaced, and the handle a perfect arch. Continue reading “In Indian Territory”
Observations
“You taste like dust,” you told me.
“But clean dust, gray dust,
gritty but not dirty.”
How to respond?
It is good to taste of dust
that is not dirt, gray
but not brown, with texture
that, nonetheless, is somehow acceptable. Continue reading “Observations”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 