Poem
RAIN
D. James Smith
RAIN
Still vast, lung-wet, I lie there, awhile,
Trickling out of the tiny cracks in my wrists.
I waken slowly, cold as the sea and remember.
Days I drove home weeping for nothing
I could name but the bruised aft...
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Story
SLEET
D. James Smith
Sleet, the first he’d seen in California, and not much of it at that. At five thousand feet in February, it made sense, though. Nosing along in his pickup, he’d traced the lake created by Pacific Gas and Electric, part...
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Poem
It’s Like This
D. James Smith
It's Like This
Coming when I call my daughters
two fortune tellers wet heads wrapped
in towels sit down with their tumble
of questions nearly fitting the puzzle
I’ve made of myself yes they’re ready
offering thei...
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Poem
Holiday
D. James Smith
My Rose of Sharon has gone dormant,
Thin and spindly as
The many masts of sailing ships
Gone to port in winter
That I’ve seen in paintings,
So I’ll be a long time waiting
In the black flowers of my days
For summ...
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Poem
The Calf
D. James Smith
Child of a dying wind it lay
In the muck and hot, blond grass
Below the dam and its strangled creek
That my boyhood friend and I
Crossed that morning, determined
To flee the nun’s black habits and ink,
To claim ...
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