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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Saturday, 15. December 2007

Winteresse - A Sequence



[1] The black tar road snakes like a tongue between the icicled trees. This too is how I rove your moonlit body, disrobed and undulant under a night sky empty of snow.

[2] Ice boxes in the houses, and knives air hanging from the eaves. Love too takes possession like this: first glazing the soul, and then throwing a sharp barbed wire against her invisible figure walking in those large snow fields of the heart.

[3] An ailing sun visits the snow capped earth like an old aunt who always wears mourning black, even when attending weddings. Branches bristle with icy thorns outside a room full of shoes. Someone is walking barefoot across a frozen lake. Someone else is scanning the blue veins of a white page.




My Poems

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