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Poem

I saw a bride splendid in white garments
I saw a woman with one hundred children 
The children plump and firm within her arms,

Poem

Once everything was big
and you were small,
but year after year your shadow 
crept up the wall 
and you grew tall.

Poem

Which can be brushed out long and fine
to lie across a pillow
or bunched and scrunched into an angry
knot of rain before it is undone, 
when long hanks of it hang

Poem

Thomas Farynor, Baker to the King,
Left his oven burning with the firewood nearby.
The embers muttered, the little flames took wing

Poem

The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,
spreading its fingers out as if new
to the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.
It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.

Poem

Aren’t you cold and won’t you freeze,
With branches bare, you winter trees?
You’ve thrown away your summer shift,
Your autumn gold has come adrift.