In all innocence
I faced the night to find a
poem, a mask on
the sliding glass door
between me and my father’s
hillside of pine trees.
He is gone, the pines
cut down by developers.
Today with other
old people I drink
coffee, look through cathedral
windows at bare trees.
I’ve found poems here,
my mask the obsidian
heart of nothing more.
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Author: Tom D'Evelyn
Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
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