Caroline Misner


Caroline Misner Poems

1. A Hard Climb 3/21/2008
2. Learning To Die 3/31/2008
3. To An Alcoholic 11/17/2009
4. Dahlia In The Window 3/24/2008
5. The Potential Of Stars 3/21/2008
6. First Snow 11/8/2008
7. Lyric 2/27/2010
8. Blackberry Dusk 3/21/2008
9. Pray For Rain 5/3/2010
10. Poor Fish 10/15/2009
11. Winter Birds 4/21/2009
12. Terminal 4/21/2009
13. Harbour Seals 4/21/2008
14. Sea Serpent 4/21/2008
15. Thirty-Two Miles 4/21/2008
16. Please, Love 5/5/2008
17. Lottery 5/5/2008
18. Dog In Moonlight 6/3/2008
19. A Journal Of Forgetting 6/3/2008
20. How To Eat A Grape 7/25/2008
21. Summer Song 7/25/2008
22. Panther Lost 7/25/2008
23. Sonnet #1: Departing 7/25/2008
24. The Vines 9/12/2008
25. Blue Country 9/12/2008
26. Kernsview Park Stones 10/25/2008
27. Indian Summer 10/25/2008
28. Friday Estates 10/25/2008
29. The Old Quarry 10/25/2008
30. Iron And Ice 10/25/2008
31. October Moonrise 10/25/2008
32. Accident 10/25/2008
33. Obituary For A Sphinx 3/21/2008
34. War Wounds 3/21/2008
35. The Medium's Trance 3/21/2008
36. I Witness A Raven 3/21/2008
37. Piano Lesson 3/21/2008
38. Shepherd's Gold 3/21/2008
39. The Old Tin Jug 3/21/2008
40. Trilliums In May 3/21/2008
Best Poem of Caroline Misner

A Hard Climb

The frill of trees jig their lady skirts
about their knees, buckling
under the weight of the wind’s hard approach.
When we exhale, our breaths dangle,
rearranging syllables and accents
the Yanks still claim we carry.

The clouds recoil in pieces of time;
inch by inch they scud across the sky,
downy spools drawing in their lines.
The black hills ball against the blue,
splash their painted trees, golden
glowing corridors to wander through.

Dropped leaves assemble into cobblestones
of amber and scarlet upon the path,
carpeting the gnarled and ...

Read the full of A Hard Climb

I Witness A Raven

When the moonlight fractures the patterned frost,
in fragments chiseled into the glass,
shattering and refracting its battery
of light, in silent solace through my window,
I witness a raven through eyes
thick and glazed with sleep.
The night hermit probes his feast

of carrion, picking at entrails, a solitary

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