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Archie Randolph Ammons

(18 February 1926 – 25 February 2001 / Whiteville, North Carolina)

Elegy For A Jet Pilot


The blast skims
over the string
of takeoff lights
and
relinquishing
place and time
lofts to
separation:
the plume, rose
sliver, grows
across the
high-lit evening
sky: by this
Mays Landing creek
shot pinecones,
skinned huckleberry
bush, laurel
swaths define
an unbelievably
particular stop.

Submitted: Monday, February 24, 2014
Edited: Monday, February 24, 2014

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  • Rookie - 58 Points Brian Jani (6/22/2014 1:58:00 PM)

    Short and straight to the point is always a recipe for a good poem, bravo! ! ! (Report) Reply

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