August evening:
the lawn overwatered, bright
oak leaves reaching through
into the thick air
shot with gauzy stars. Desire
has found its voice in
the low drying hedge
or is it from under the
steps. Now listen to
the first cricket of
the season, of his one and
only season: I
have a month to live
and I’ll spend it singing you
into my life. La
petite mort my theme.
This house belongs to a hu-
man poet. His chirp
lacks my jeweled charm.
Now that it’s hot he can’t sleep,
he just lies awake
listening to me
woo you with pulsing, some say
eternal, music.
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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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