Deborah Ager Poems
|2.||The Tortoise In Keystone Heights||1/1/2004|
|4.||Night In Iowa||1/1/2004|
|6.||The Space Coast||1/1/2004|
|7.||Santa Fe In Winter||1/1/2004|
|8.||Night: San Francisco||1/1/2004|
The yard half a yard,
half a lake blue as a corpse.
The lake will tell things you long to hear:
get away from here.
Three o'clock. Dry leaves rat-tat like maracas.
breaks at every step and trees
are slowly realizing they are nude.
How long will you stay?
For the lake asks questions you want to hear, too.
Months have passed since, well,
everything. Since buildings stood
black against sky, rain hissed from sidewalks
and curled around you.
O, how those avenues once seemed menacing!
I know what you miss ...