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WAKING UP

        After books, a song and bottle,

I think my granddaughter will sleep

through the night.

But at the stroke of twelve, as in

the Cinderella story, the spell I cast

is broken. She wakes up. 

I try everything, except

letting her cry h...

            The Old Woman Thinks the Doll Alive

She feeds and comforts her,

changes her diapers, hums a lullaby.

In rare lucid moments, she knows

            the doll is not real – See,...

THE GOWN’S SECRETS

The pale silk gown hangs

in a garment bag in the attic.

On its lace bodice, seven tiny pearls 

stitched into each embroidered flower.

Eighteen knife pleats stream

from mid-back to the floor. 

See through –

too sensual for a high school prom.

And not my weddin...

            BARELY OCTOBER

The leaves of the three trees out front

not yet transformed by nip and chill –

frozen in last night’s early snow.

Falling – every one,

in multitudes all at once.

Not like years past . . .

a glow surr...

                WEDDING TALK

Change occurs at the edge of things,

the groom said, looking at the photograph

he’d taken of blueberry bushes burning

crimson in autumn on Dolly Sod.

I think of the sun’s bow...

CHECKING BAGGAGE

A place between 

good-bye and hello,

here and there –

today the airport is deserted.

Few fellow travelers

with whom it is safe

to share secrets,

and fewer behind counters,

who speak of baggage

carried or stowed away,

and of destination.

Instead of a smiling face,

a...

            BELOW THE SURFACE

                   – after an untitled piece by Naomi Richman, a 10th grader at Boulder High 

The kit...

THE MODEL AND HER ARTIST

              after “Woman Combing Her Hair,”

              charcoal by Edgar Degas

Naked but for bold red slippers –

she sits c...

NOTWITHSTANDING

       She speaks of omen, cloying

humidity and a lurid green sky,

on a day years ago when

the funnel rumbled

louder, closer, close.

The din above ground – windows

exploding, trees uprooting,

pick-up trucks flying –

while huddled in the...

DARE I SPEAK OF HEAVEN?

Wild rabbit, stillborn – discovered

in a hunt for bright-colored eggs

hidden among the tulips.

The child doesn’t know what it is,

what it means – looks to me

for clue, some reaction. Last week,

we watched a blue spruce

cut down in its prime.  She leaned

...

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