12.15.24    I have lived lavishly   because I have seen  the green grass whistle   to the weeping willow   on the farm yard stream  by the gravel road.   


  
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Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

I have lived lavishly

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     On the porch in Balcones, winter      A crow overheard: heading home for supper.   leaflets of copper, lonely crimson,   angry green.   The end of winter on etched wood.   Quiet— despite the silent thunder&nbsp
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

On the porch in Balcones, winter

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      He is hollyhock kisses and    brambleberry thorns. He is layers      of sediment on the edge     of the tide pools, writhing and withering,      lapping at uncertain toe
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

For Will

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    Lonely girls;  tunes from a banjo with the A string slightly off key  hair shining with the glow of a thousand right turn blinkers  perched upon the roost like pigeons  waiting for the burger on 7th  to slip  slowly  from your teeth.  S
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Lonely Girls

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     Maple Sweet Birch     Maple sweet birch  or thistledown hedge   whiskers of ghost otters in the claw foot tub  husky corn and indelible feet  Stern pines scold me for my troubles   from the top branch, sap soaked, acorn butto
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Maple Sweet Birch

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     I am trying to collect my thoughts about the Tuesday of the first week of November      Dear Pen pal,   It seems all I can muster to listen to is jazz right now.   It is Friday, now   (and I am thinking of the worst
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

I am trying to collect my thoughts about the Tuesday of the first week of November 

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     September Second      A wish to speak not of august.   afternoons linger then desert us   without a farewell handshake.   instead, speak of carnival smoke  that drips off steel gutters  and coats painted nimble forearms
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

September Second

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     Poem 24     I cry out for you sometimes   when I am among the yarrow  and its yellow regalia   that splashes across the acres I find myself in.     I am crying out for you now  as the begonias sway at my hip   as if
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Poem 24

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     Poem 21   There are not enough hours in one Sunday  To look you in the eyes and take you in fully.   I’ll pay Monday off to keep you here  If it means I’ll get just one more coffee  One more song you hum   One more touch, fin
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Poem 21

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     Poem 18   It rings in my ears—a lull, so beautifully indescribable—  I have salt in the crooks of my eyes   And I am seated at the stool at the end of the bar.   My ring finger slips, wet, from the beer label.   Notes si
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Poem 18

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     I am so overcome with emotion when I am around you     that I fear I will never be able to tell you how much I admire you       for your birthday     I will often recall our evening in new york   Sitting across from you,
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

I am so overcome with emotion when I am around you that I fear I will never be able to tell you how much I admire you

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    There are thorns in the crevice of my left toes.   I wonder what it must have been like,  To saw down branches caked with lichen, green and yellow wispy edges;   His anger toward his father was taken out on pieces of bark.&nbs
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Cherry Tree

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     Poem 2     Today is borrowed time,  and I long for things I do not know;  tattered buckskins and hollow trunks,  and,  briefly,   the press on the nape of my neck from tender fingers.     Once, a mouse flattened on the slates
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Poem 2

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       Poem 15   It is a lush life   and I am walking home, tapping my feet.   I have a boombox in my mind,  blues in orbit .   I peer in, and shiver in the twilight alleys.   a terror is more certain than all the rare d
Grace Arnold Grace Arnold

Poem 15

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