Turning
Turning There comes a time in every fall before the leaves begin to turn when blackbirds group and flock and gather choosing a tree, a branch, together to click and call and chorus and clamor announcing the season has...
Turning There comes a time in every fall before the leaves begin to turn when blackbirds group and flock and gather choosing a tree, a branch, together to click and call and chorus and clamor announcing the season has...
Table A man filled with the gladness of living Put his keys on the table. Put flowers in a copper bowl there. He put his eggs and milk on the table. He put there the light that came in...
Facing the Moon, There Is No End All four seasons have the moon, and yet we admire it especially in autumn. The mountain is high and the water clear. In the sky of myriad miles, a round mirror flies. Forgetting...
My Life Is Not This Steeply Sloping Hour My life is not this steeply sloping hour, in which you see me hurrying. Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree; I am only one of many mouths,...
Poet, writer and screenwriter Jimmy Santiago Baca has published more than 30 books, and was awarded the Pushcart Prize, the American Book Award, the National Poetry Award, two Southwest Book Awards, and the International Hispanic Heritage Award. But he was...
Now You See It What you don’t see helps you see what you do see: the keyhole sharpens the thrill in your brain, even if there is no one in the room, shadows wafting across the white sheets as a...
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