Peter Kane Dufault Poems

I called you because I could not stand alone
looking north to that skyline-
tree globed with its yellow apples
...

Kestrel too? Dwindling now?
That small falcon somehow
quarried out of a rainbow
...

That harbinger of God's hardness, North
American Goshawk — storm-
grey above, ice-grey beneath — segment
...

How sad! To deny it's splendid—
that dazzling mass—just because
it isn't a thing men did
...

A thought of her always
stayed in my head, at the back of it,
...

So lovely it was, the way
your body, propped on one shoulder,
curved into mine like a river
...

My dear, what you teach me is:
some premise exists for luck—
a sly elasticity hid
...

Unhappy country, what
wings you have, what eyes
of jellied fire, what claws
...

I'm glad I'm not a sculptor.
A sculptor has it hard.
His stuff fills up the basement,
...

Yet here it is. This is meant
and is no accident. (How
speak of ' design-by-
...