Pamela Stewart

Pamela Stewart

Nightblind When the train's headlight veersto kill my right eye, I panicand the road goes black.There are no white-line boundariesas the radio croons "I can'tstop lovin' you," so I askeach truck that passes to rescue meback on course. Aiming for their small red...

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Michael Burkard

Michael Burkard

Black Wing  To have each understanding of the river represented By starry night, the thing by itself.  To have a time when the black glasses sit so silently in the midnight sun the mind may as   well turn away from them as well to them. To have the absolute question...

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Naomi Shihab Nye

Naomi Shihab Nye

French Movies  In memory of Patrick Dewaere  1. A roasted chicken placed on a white cloth. In the movie it is still sitting there. You forget to eat it. We go outside to find glass bottles smashed behind our cars.  2. In some men, the future is written  with a...

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Ann Snodgrass

Ann Snodgrass

The Inviolate Carolyn, New Orleans seems so far away...tonight  the valley's lights keep a planetary distance...there is  only the shallow comfort of gestures left  like dropping more ice in the gin knowing, as it melts,  that I will fail to make you feel I...

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Dean Young

Dean Young

Twice First Light   New Born Horse In winter before light it's impossible to guess what I'll knock into next. A lamp in the shape of a ship goes down, its lightbulb in a short white passion. I love the frail tintinnabulations of a broken bulb so appropriate for...

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Tony Hoagland

Tony Hoagland

In Gratitude for Talk for John and Joe The blue-grey steeples of the pines, the lake's cold oval: our perception of these shapes makes us particularly human. Like tourists living on the shore of what really matters, we can lean back and say "Those clouds are marble...

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Rita Dove

Rita Dove

Here’s a poem by Rita Dove called “Watching Last Year at Marienbad at Roger Haggerty’s House in Auburn, Alabama.” It begins “There is a corridor of light/through the pines, lint from the Spanish Moss./ 
There is the fallen sun… 

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