from “Extended Outlook”
“The tree is a violin bow
scraping the sound box of the house
all day. Close to the ribbed
breath, the scrolled end of wind under the eaves
turns back on the fine-tuned neck,
answers the shrill
jay in the caterwaul of blue
and fading light.”
from “Sanding the Chairs”
“Every layer of paint, a country of wishes: the days
of townships lying in harbor
riding at anchor
follow the stars”
from “The Geologist’s Map”
“Cut off / from her past, the continent drifted”
Madeleine DeFrees
Blue Dusk (2001)
THE POETRY PLACE 