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Signs
No trespassing,the sign says,and the gate looks unfriendly,though trees behindbeckon brightly on green hillsshadowing their arching armson velvet grass.So will someone come,I ask,to arrest us?snatch camera from our hands,lock us up,handcuffed,for shooting wildlyat the...
Awakening
Some days wake you in a mist,unsure of where you are.No trees mark your pathwith sun and shadow,or lake reflect an open sky.So you have to pull it outfrom deep inside,that imageof how you want to be—dressed in mountain gearand hiking boots,curling feathers—those...
January
I love this moment ofcrackling spring,when bare treesbegin to hum,buds start to wakeand turn over just a biton their branches,and daffodils,looking for light,unfurl yellow pennantsdrooping with morning rain,and on the roses,pruned back to weathered wood,buds swell...
Poems for my Daughters
Wings You led the waytoward the unthinkable,so I could open my eyesand stare fear in the face,watch it shrink into a balland roll away,leaving a path of flowersin full bloom. I took wingto find you, in the cold clear air,never thinking my feet wouldcurl beneath me,my...
Red Dress, Place Vendome
So much dependsUpon a momentary alignment The red dress draws the eye-Opulent, silky,Assured,in a simplicity of linealmost oriental.No mannequin defines it-This dress will fit any womansize 6,with the right plastic, and anexclusive enough party at the Ritz. Look...



