this is not about getting it right, figuring things out, or hitting a bull's-eye. this is not about an obsession with word choice or an exacting eye on grammatical correctness. this is not about pulling out all the stops with tricky literary devices. this is about looking at life one paragraph at time.
all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Please include a link (www.papayamaya.blogspot.com) when reproducing any of the material in this blog. Thank you!
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© by Maya Stein
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Please include a link (www.papayamaya.blogspot.com) when reproducing any of the material in this blog. Thank you!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Thursday, September 29, 2005
if
if i tell you the list
of things i'm afraid of,
will they, from this sudden, clear airtime,
evince their black power
from the closet shelves,
squirrel out of that thick and dusty air
into dangerous, fluorescent possibility,
and shatter the bones of my whole life?
the dog doesn't care about such things.
instead, she sleeps,
curving herself into a careful parenthesis,
head resting on her front paw.
and what this tells me is
she is either happy
or dreaming.
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1 comment:
Dear Maya,
i saw your book today. It was resting on your mother's table, in the farm house, in the afternoon's half light. I browsed and read your poetry...
I do not know your mother very well but I am a firend of a woman who rents a room there, at the farm. So we were preparing to walk down around the pond...when i picked up this book, bound like another book I love "awakening to landscape" by Rudolf Steiner and another, can't remember who... so I actually mistook one for the other, but the peoms and photography catured me and I awakened to something else... inspiration.
thank you
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