Peter Wright -- from Cloud Poems
nothing is distinct
but echoing kettle drums
in this summer sky
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from green rolling hills
a huge rose in black and white
blooming and blooming
slate green above
your inhabitants have morphed
into waves of rain
come hither earthbound
imagine we are your own
animals to ride
far away voices
hang in storm clouds and pouring
issue from my mouth
Kathleen Johnson -- from her debut collection, Burn
Muse
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Poetry will always be
a wild animal
William Stafford, You Must Revise Your Life
I've seen a wolf
in the woods of a dream.
her canine contours run
ravenous with color:
sage, pine, sun-yellow,
adn canyon-brown, the rich
carnelian of a Mexican sunset.
Lean, leggy,
pink tongue wet and lolling
she stares me straight in the eye.
Silver moonlight on her back,
wildfire burning in her eyes,
she circles close in the night
daring me.
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