I hope there is a world where music is like a ten thousand note choir of crows who leaves the Arboretum each morning searching wide moist Seattle for sparkly things and returns in robust dark afternoon cloud for surprised MOHAI patrons and bike commuters, loud and strong and you are never far I hope thereContinue reading “2005 Solstice Poem”
Category Archives: poetry
Little Things
Work for Jerry moving rock, three yards moved already this morning In the dirt, two grasshoppers mounted and still—Jerry: “Good for them, the little things, taking their time”
Notes From Tibbett’s Point
Worn foil expanse, flat, the St. Lawrence, gold toward Lake Ontario. Low light through emerald-blue waves breaks on the stone shore. A seagull cruises low over field of cut hay,
A Long, Quiet Word
Words, rumors of the wind through drafty walls and windows like these. Light-pierced, burnt, the great spilling of words.
Chris Bevens | pedalpoet 