Dailies 5/10/17: fields, scrubbing laundry in a tub in an iridescent time, a dream after the death of a brother, & a poem for dog-lovers

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Bob Hicok – The Big Book of Therapy

If you think of humans as rare
as snowflakes, your world
is constantly melting.

Read rest of poem 

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Mary Cisper – After My Brother Dies, A Dream 

You marry a woman named Rose
and move to Vermont
where it snows and snows.
One of my names is Rose and between
here and there, mountains, lakes,
more mountains. What happens
in Vermont is unknown to everyone.
Covered bridges, maple syrup,

Read rest of poem 

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Ruth Stone – In an Iridescent Time

My mother, when young, scrubbed laundry in a tub,
She and her sisters on an old brick walk
Under the apple trees, sweet rub-a-dub.
The bees came round their heads, the wrens made talk.

Read rest of poem 

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Susannah Nevison – At Holmesburg

All I saw before me were acres of skin. It was like
a farmer seeing a fertile field for the first time.

DR. ALBERT KLIGMAN

 

If one takes the bird’s eye
view, it’s easy to see
how a field becomes
a fine-tuned system
designed to give us
exactly what we want:

Read rest of poem 

 

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