The full moon rolls in the southern sky;
it is time to practice your craft.You will wander through ruins, your hair
unkempt, your face a long sea voyage.Cut down to the ground the bleeding
heart; let roses go to hips.October will kindle the vines.
Colchicum will open its lavender mouth.
POEMS
A - B
C - D
E - F
G - H
I - J
K - L
M - N
O - R
S
W - Z
MORE OF SB's POEMS
@WATERMARK |A Poet's Notebook
- Disclaimer
Please do not assume that I am the speaker/ subject of my poems.
In these times of creative nonfiction and fictionalized memoirs, I think of the poem itself as true fiction: it is most likely not factual, but it must be true.
It is likely to be -- it is best if it is -- a truth I did not know before I wrote, and may not understand even then.
A poem is my way of discovering (dis-covering) what I feel; sometimes, what I think -- but it is not necessarily biographical.
TRANSLATE
ChangingLINKS