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 
The keen edge of a well-crafted poem cuts away the calloused parts of my soul and then Deeper Words, like oil and wine, heal those places that have become damaged by my sometimes inattentive life. Oh, how glad I am for those who know the power of a poem.