Poetry

Down the precipitous switchbacks at eighty

A brownish-yellow V-shaped blur,

We are spared nothing Yusef says

My father planted, every May,

She who is known by myth and association

Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. –Isaiah 1:18

We grabbed hold of goggled Howard as he

The kingdom of God is within you. –Luke 17:21

The kingdom is inside somewhere all right.

Once again the nightmare. The blueblack plume,

“Before time had a name….” –William Stafford

At noon today