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Andrea Moorhead (4 poems)

Perambulations

She walked around the broken concrete

wires emerging with each step

the night glow caught in her lashes

as she threaded her way

avoiding the jagged glass, the twisted metal

signs still pulsating

under her eyes the last smudge of the night

Other Movements

Icons left in the attic haven’t any recourse

gold leaf flaking every night as they move around

the trunk doesn’t have any hinges and the night air is soft

legs and arms invisible, the face still rigid, eyes turned, lips closed,

but the wind stirs at night and the windows are cracked

someone saw a light rain the other night

something sweet and shining falling out the attic window

lips sealed eyes half-open and the rain never stopped and the dew rising

precluded any thought of going up on top.

Absorption

Simply lifting the stone isn’t enough

flowers bleed by the side of the road

caught in some unidentified vapor

while we walk on

moving slowly into the rain.

Ontario Lakes, 1950

                                         for RKM

Pickerel scales on the ground

the boat pulled up for the night

dreaming of past waters to the north

the sheen of early sun skittering against

dead spruce stumps, the water cool brown,

flowerless and pure,

we continue every day

hauling in and out the wooden,

the smooth and sleek, fleet and

languid boat of our dreams.

Andrea Moorheadborn in Buffalo, New York, is the publisher of the prestigious international magazine, Osiris. Her most recent book is The Carver's Dream (Red Dragon Fly Press). Her poems have appeared in journals such as Abraxas, Great River Review, The Bitter Oleander, Phoenix, Poetry Salzburg Review, and elsewhere.

 

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