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Living Again
George Keithley

[Read Sample Poem]

ISBN 0-9657177-0-4
Paper, 35 pages,
$7.00 (Free Shipping)

Art and design by Lyn Bouguereau, Lost Coast Design / www.lynbou.com

In this small collection of poems, Keithley joins images of light and darkness in such a way that the reader is reminded "of the transitoriness of life, the predatory nature of man and animal, the all-encompassing finality of death, and the ability, distinctly human, of transcendence." —Small Press


First Morning

The only autumn I have known
without my father is finished—
a flash storm, the worst since his death,
and last night's freeze: granite outcrop
wears a milky glaze, the hemlocks
are sheathed in ice. At dawn walking
across the meadow to the woods
I wish for the warmth of his voice
once more. He was a peaceable
man—injustice angered him but
little else—a gentle man and
the pang of missing him is sharp.
I think of his pleasure hiking
these frosted fields. No hunter, he
loved to discover animals
in their habitat and leave them
undisturbed. Which he thought just. "They
surely earn their peace among us.
Let them be." The wren in its nest,
the half dozen frogs surviving
—who can say how—in a bog-hole,
or the family of owls bred in
the horse barn. His patience will take
years to learn—it's time I start home
to my own children. Emerging
from a stand of pines shagged with ice
I surprise a fox and it bolts
to safety. Brushy tail barely
twitching the white grass, leaving no
trace. Drops of ice sparkle among
manzanita. Where my path ends
cold sunlight strikes a frozen sheen
on the country road. It's the first
morning of winter and the world
is made of glass the heart must break.

© 1997 by George Keithley
Living Again
First published inThe Amicus Journal