Sunday, December 17, 2006

David Dodd Lee - Pulse


Abrupt Rural. David Dodd Lee.


Like the wing of a butterfly there was the river

that walked every night there was the blood in your wrist
the window and the solitary white pine in the rain

there was the white bird

there were seeds in a soup can and the bag of potatoes
a black widow dangling in her web between the used-up brooms

there was the man holding his hat in his hand
looking for the cemetery

there was the dog crossing the cornfield
a pile of stumps burning in a ditch by the side of the road

in the middle of the night
an apple core drying in the breezeway

a dinner bell rings far off
an owl flies out the barn door


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