NEW ENGLAND

BURIAL

Tis a gift to be
humble
in a white clapboard
kind of way
at the funeral of a father
of a friend.

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MONTHS

DRYER

March.
The word itself
contains the pith.

It speaks of irons, heat,
and bleach,
chemical and comforting.

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NEW ZEALAND

LOVESONG

When the world has spun its orbit
in its harsh unceasing path,
and the endless winter sunset
has had done with fire and ash.
Then the time is ripe for loving,
a kiss to shame the past,
and I tear the stars in roving
to come home to you at last.

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ENGLAND

DEAR HUSBAND

Plain Jane,
with the curl that never stayed behind her ear,
wife of a beloved John,
who liked to tuck it back.

Gone to her maker,
on a cold February morning,
when the fog rolled in cross the Mendips
and cloaked his grief from her eyes.

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