December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

DEALING SCRAPS by Ruth Garnett.

I must have back this breath
you take away
dryly
like wine.

Your love
is formidable, like night
and certain prodding
to sobs.

When you leave
it is with nothing left;
weird shadow
haunt the light
and gaunt reflection
in glass.

I have lingered
at my neighbor’s house
to steal from time
and her sorrows

I seek out strangers.

In my own house
I am stranger
to the thick presence
of your absence.

For these hours
I invent
importances.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

Black is what the prisons are, The stagnant vortex of the hours Swept into totality, Creeping in the perjured heart, Bitter in the vulgar rhyme, Bitter on the walls; Black is where the devils... THE AFRICAN AFFAIR by Bruce M. Wright.
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