Morning coffee cooling, the language
just out of reach. Harsh slashes
on wind, on water, loves caught up
in old songs, gone
to seed. Yet we hear them
coming again, stirring
in groin, oh no
oh yes — it’s spring


And so I leave behind “National Poetry Month,” whatever that means; shocked that I actually managed to post something every day. I had fun doing it. Will try to keep posting regular-like, but my focus will shift to the ongoing translation work. Kalamazoo beckons with a couple of papers I need to write and revise, and what I would like to do — what I’ve been promising myself to do for many years now — is sift through the many books and chapbooks and zines I’ve acquired over the past several years and post about them here. Hopefully, then, I’ll keep blogging, “against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past,” as they say.

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One Response to Spring

  1. Tina. says:

    Loved reading your poems this month! Thank you.

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