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Occasional Poem — Donna Kane

Wednesday, June 13, 2007
by

Summer Solstice

the light stretched and tangy, up on its horse
and riding through the ripening meadows,
buzzing the leaves and the birds
who’ve been at it for hours.
Light that in its excess has become something else.
The way Cranberry Falls is so frothed with runoff
it doesn’t look like water anymore.  The way you look
from a hill’s hightest point, your head full of chlorophyll,
heart shucking winter like a clayload of guilt,
like pollen with its open fire policy
compensating loss.  You exceed yourself,
tanked on the light and the birds
who’ve been singing forever.

I read this today and thought it was just perfect. meopcco03971semaj

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One Comment leave one →
  1. sfpbiblio permalink
    Wednesday, June 13, 2007 4:23 pm

    Yes, that is very nice, thank you for sharing.

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