I live in a small
room—room for bed, chair, dresser,
books, open and closed.
A window opens
in the trees, trees open to
the bay, light and dark
wind, water, birds, which
change the weather in the room,
open the small space
to infinity,
or what can seem like it when
seeming is enough.
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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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Well done yet again, Tom, with your craftsmanship. The precision of your syllable counting seems especially appropriate for this poem with its small room open to glimpses of infinity. Hope you are well and Covid-free. We are, I’m glad to say. John
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