Three Poems

July 19, 1995|By Nikia Leopold

Dawn

Birds are twitting

the rising lion,

rude and shrill,

but it will

stalk the sky

all morning

til by noon

they hide in thickets,

chastened,

still.

Intimation

A single rose

Ticks

On the kitchen table.

I set the salt down

And petals

Explode

Onto the wood,

Lie still --

A scattered palm

Upturned

to the empty stamen.

Quickly I scoop them

Into the trash. Heart

Beating

A little faster.

Jog

Sweat, honeysuckle,

mulch, carrion -- a poison

curled, reminding me.

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