Acts of Light Yawp Video

Acts of Light

LindaAnn LoSchiavo

She’s old, my neighbor, planting daffodils

And other bulbs, these plump brown hopes asleep

For now, when she addresses me, that voice

Deep, curved like a construction hook, as if

She’s building with that voice things both of us

Will need.  A kaffir lily, bare root still,

Is offered for inspection, years away

From blooming orange trumpets, syllables

Blown bright.  There’s so little light left now.


Inside I watch her bordering the beds,

Determined, making order to impose

Her colors — — to oppose a nothingness.

more poems:


Milkshakes in the Rain

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