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Psaltery & Lyre

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Poetry

Heat Storm

When the thunder / cracked above / and God poured water / upon the earth

Hair Narratives

It’s the young French father’s longer arms / that first reach their daughter’s hair / in which her clasp is tangled.

What a Wave Is

I watch the moon lean against the branches empty / trees wrap its curves to the scent of spring its green / rhetoric

Doubter’s Psalm

I will hear your words, O Lord, / I will sing and selah with my mouth; / I will teach, I will study, I will serve with my hands, / But in my heart, O Lord, / I will hesitate.

Ever Laboring

and still I reorder these bones you no longer need

religion

yellow. i don’t know why i need to tell you that / but i do. it was yellow and it was the color / of understanding my mortality.

Renoir’s Yarn

You won’t find a painting of his / with that title, only one corner / of a painting

Mary Looks at Northern Renaissance Madonnas

I’d rather be a Corn Goddess on a Pueblo church’s walls, / sly insertion into a conqueror’s faith

Labor

When the body / fills with tiny hooves / pressing in the early hours / before dawn

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