Poetry

Harvest Season

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harvest season hello moonshine midnight once again. i find your cold skin searching for my own flesh in this passage of spring time. deep…

Suburban Deer

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On the sidewalk. On the patio. From the backyard bushes. Doe and fawn leap toward open space to see my young— bright-eyed and sleek…

Guilt

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The ones who died?—You magnify them with your living, don’t you? Wednesday morning, think how good they would think they had it, even when…

Two Poems

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Feast Day There’s a patron saint for everything. Nearly all the early ones were martyred. The world has always been this bloody. St. Justus…