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The World in Present Tense
A Collection of Contemporary Poetry @ The Other Pages http://theotherpages.org/universe/
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March snows and snows and I'd
abandon mountains for October
Palm Beach light.
Why not beat the gray Atlantic
hand on hand, til I'm so far from shore
I can't see back?
The fronts come in, come in,
full bellied, full of snow
and March mounts no defense.
I want a certain light. I'll go
months to find that one rose on my cheek,
a morning burning up a Mexique town.
This last of winter makes me weak.
Scott Murphy, © 1996
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