“and even you forgot those brilliant flashes seen from afar” -Ruth Stone

A friend (sends love)

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Pause

A friend sends
A picture of three chickens
Standing in a kind of
Formation
On a road where
The snow has begun
To retreat

Funny
I tell her
I was singing the theme from
Green Acres
Last evening,

And thinking
About people
Who move to rural places
In search of serenity-
While also thinking
“ This village could use a Trader Joe’s “

As for myself
I am smitten
With mountains –

Majestic but
Unpretentious

And the way
The silence calms me
Like Miles Davis
Playing a muted,
tender ballad –
which
my friend says
he mastered
after two years
singing the evening sky

Kelly Recalls NO. 59

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Pause

What do you want for your birthday?
Mother asked

(September still in town,
sneaking glances at
The stage door –
Dreaming of rest )

Still- I answer

I want to be a handsome
Reclusive
mystique drenched
artist
with a voice like
the autumn sky

A brother
Rumored to reside

Somewhere in Denmark

How about
Telling me
What kind of cake
You want from
The bakery

Two blocks from
The jazz club
Your Father has a crush on

Wish for every one of those things
Before the candlelight
Is snuffed out
At last call

Spring on the on deck circle (Late March)

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Pause

Spring is in the on deck circle
turtles frolic
beneath the melting ice on the lake

50 degrees in late March
is a sweet harbinger

My soul is,
If not giddy-
Somewhere
On its outskirts

But the friend I meet for
A walk
Wants to discuss diversity

This is my day off from
Blackness
I tell him

Tonight
The couch and I
Will watch scores
Of tender ancient films
On Turner Classic Movies

I will sip Kombucha
While alternately crying
And petting my ancient
brown couch

Appears in this issue
Reuben Jackson’s poems have been published in over 40 anthologies; his first volume is Fingering the Keys, which Joseph Brodsky picked for the Columbia Book Award.

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