late in the year
shelterless bird
song
floats through rain,
darkens clouds
still, you can find
me
the dandelions I dedicated to
you
shine in wet grass
*
like young girls, one
after another,
trembling --
each skittish
tree
lights and
rustles
under the
sky’s
reckless
caress
*
still in the mind of the
beloved
the leaf is
trembling
green on the black
branch
even after
this sky swallowed
the winter wind
James Owens divides his time between Wabash, Ind., and Northern Ontario. Two
books of his poems have been published: An Hour
is the Doorway (Black Lawrence Press) and Frost Lights a
Thin Flame (Mayapple Press). His poems, reviews, translations, and
photographs have appeared widely in literary journals, including recent or
upcoming publications in The Cortland Review, The Cresset, Poetry
Ireland, and The Chaffey Review.
He blogs athttp://circumstanceandmagic.blogspot.com
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