Poetry | Page 13 | wisconsinacademy.org
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Poetry

As the young, slight, male manicuristdeftly massages my hand, we turn our headsin opposite directions as if such pleasurebetween strangers were unseemly in light

Prayer (Song) for Magic

Please be advised that snow globes are not allowed through the security check point.                                                           —LaGuardia Airport sign

at nightmy mother bathed me in a white tubscrubbed me with white soaprubbed me in a white towelhugged and plugged meinto pajamas and the white sheets

The children are back, the children are back—

They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack;

The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad,

Muskrat—Wazhashk, small whiskered swimmer, you, a fluid arrow crossing waterways with the simple determination of one who has dived purple deep into mythic quest.
Ricing moon  when poling arms groan like autumn winds through white pine. Old rhythms find the hands bend and pound the rice, rice kernels falling falling onto wooden ribs 
Why should it happen that the smallest  zig-zagging black cricket one stick leg raised— a musician’s baton, holds and then releases the same song

Drop my children off at another parent’s house

To free up time to drive aimlessly, listening to

FM radio, waiting for a song that I feel deeply

Anyone who has ever kept a secretKnows that letters cannot be burned in a bundle

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