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Three poems

from a work in progress, “process, not a journey” (33-35)

resonance

the cold rail vibrates

beneath his hand

.

It’s inevitable

he stands and waits

.

Time Enough

patience sips her tea

as she watches

the bees flit and hover

among the roses in her garden

.

a breeze shifts the leaves

to the left and right

.

as above so below

morning breaks

pink and blue

beneath the ragged clouds

as the wind chime

in the chase tree

ripples through the yard

(March 6, 2020)

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constellations

from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (23)

starlings turn a double-helix into themselves

their poetry drifts through dark clouds

I murmur my admiration

still stunned after years

of seeing them dance

like calligraphy through silent air

what’s written into our veins

century by century

flows darkly

in a continuous reel

beneath these stars

(February 2, 2020)