Stephen
Vincent
| From Trellis Backwater blues move me Love with a married woman, once Please do not holler There is too much now blown under I am happily married Quit love? never Well, things do happen. Mountains sometimes fall One gets blue An empty wheelbarrow falls Who wakes up this morning Azure skies go radiant pink Tulips shoulder back up: Pink, orange lavender, slender pistils. * I know A man So Dear over Here What's Matter Informs This That: Singular Is history Plural Divines the Woman At corner's Edge Is one Way to Propose hope A foot Lifted To cross The street's Conviction. * In the far north A mute tribe Does lie underground Charmed Blood red Madrone Echoes hatred Once divest Settler's lust Who can sing that song Rifle to chest, throat? The squalid on horses Rape, fire and theft What makes A dead bone sing? Justice quarantined Beauty dead, wronged. * What was now suddenly yesterday Luminescence not a chore Kate Smith over the Cave's choral, backlit, nightly mountain Afternoon early television Age un-battens grandmother, childhood Drawn curtains against the sunset Poetry's launch seals Immortality into small stanzas Between walls shaken syllables Calibrate the swell of blue dissonance No matter what one bears An assured resemblance perpetual What is in the breath sharpens Opens by slim degrees What lies dormant This night in which Dreams mock the limits of the living Once amber, now gold. * Too tight Abscond She said He will not Cry Or One climbs One flies One ups Such News So clear Fear Factors Always So true Breathe deeper, she said To submit A beautiful Thing Wants To Be well known Traveled. >>>Tad Richards
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