NEAR PROVIDENCE 19.3.22

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.

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.

One thought on “NEAR PROVIDENCE 19.3.22”

  1. 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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