Morning Coffee #10

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. Beginning BY JAMES WRIGHT The moon drops one or two feathers into the field.   The dark wheat listens.Be still.Now.There they are, the moon’s young, tryingTheir wings.Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadowOf her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is goneWholly, […]

Shameless Poetry Hour #3

Where the author shamelessly plugs his Poetry. Morning’s Choir – Nathan Harrell Dawn comes slowly, stumbling in like a shoeless wino. I sit by a quiet fire, made quieter by the soft misty fog settling in like a whisper around me. I can hear my oldest son snoring in our tent nearby, his heavy breathing […]

Morning Coffee #9

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. The Apple Tree Wendell Berry In the essential proseof things, the apple treestands up, emphaticamong the accidentsof the afternoon, solvent,not to be denied.The grass has been cutdown, carefullyto leave the orangepoppies still in bloom;the tree stands upin the odor of the grassdrying. The forkedtrunk and branches […]

Morning Coffee #8

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. Brigit Pegeen Kelly doing laundry on sunday So this is the Sabbath, the stillnessin the garden, magnoliabells drying damp petticoats over the porch rail, while bicyclewheels thrum and the full-breasted tulipsopen their pink blouses for the hands that pressed them firstas bulbs into the earth.Bread, too, cools […]

Morning Coffee #6

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. Blackberrying BY SYLVIA PLATH Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,   Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a seaSomewhere at the end of it, heaving. BlackberriesBig as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyesEbon […]

Morning Coffee #4

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. AFTER THE SPRING The first hay is in and all at oncein the silent evening summer has comeknowing the place wholly the green skinof its hidden slopes where the shadows willnever reach so far again and a fewgray hairs motionless high in the latesunlight tell of […]

Morning Coffee #3

Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. BODIES, FLOWERBEDSfrom Bird From Africa by Viola AlloThe earth, carved up, engraved with bodies,this hollow vision of death: people restingtogether, bodies beneath a bed of flowers. We soften death into poems and stories.The art of writing is just a way of wailingfor the earth, carved up, sculpted by […]

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