Fireflies
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Fireflies

Out in the countrythe stars speak to you.Sometimes their silver tongues singshimmering in vast choirsin cathedrals of night.Beneath their singing,two boys run over dark earth,racing, tumbling, laughing through the dusk,fast as a rabbit’s heart beating,its blood dancing, pulsing through veins… My twin brother ahead of me,breathing out brightnesswithin warm night windas we drift through soft…

‘And what if he tells you to make poems?’
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‘And what if he tells you to make poems?’

“Though I have never been to Mount Olive, New Jersey,I have spent years of my reading life on the Mount of Olives,trespassing, looking for a brown-skinned teacher…” writes Brad Davis in his book’s title poem, inspired by a news report of a trespassing teen in Mount Olive, New Jersey. The poem summarizes well the quest…

A world of small things
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A world of small things

expanse of rockglacial and basic delicate berriesand hued bloomsgrasses – blue, fescue, and cotton. . . holes in ice(lost at sea)tiny hopes of oneringed by rime   quick time   breath shortbut darker holesin purest whitenow covered creep closer and feed the futureof nanuq generationsstill tiny, womb-boundwaiting to becomesomething greatin a world of small things. Written while…