Steven Federle Poems

My children slept
on the thin vinyl floor
while above our tent,
just past the dark tree-line,
...

Summer

He worked nights, leaving as we climbed
the tall narrow staircase to our shared room,
...

Along the tracks
in this field of straw,
tawny stubble
cut down by indifferent,
...

The gym was dim.

Red and white balloons
glittered in the dusk
...

Two grey-blue mockingbirds
alight on my cherry tree,
and set up their look-out;
the squatting male belches
...

The stroke was bad, and arriving at the hospital
we expected hushed, grim words
from the preoccupied doctor.
The doctor said it was brain-stem, hopeless;
...

I heard the game was tough, and they lost,
despairing in muddy jerseys,
turf jutting from face guards and heavy cleats.
...

the green glow
of our cottonwoods
newly clothed in the gentle April sun....
...

Sailboats lashed to the pier,
ebon masts, dark trees bare
with tightly shrouded canvas sail,
rigging singing in the gale,
...

Glaring like a field
covered with new snow,

this incipient page waits
...