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Post by MoonyLuna on Nov 1, 2008 11:24:42 GMT -5
Samos lay me down to sleep, thirty brown-stained fish in a yawning cove. Weary of waves, urchins and cigarette butts, the abandoned lighthouse couldn't care less
if we stay or go. Sirocco settles the matter for a ferry caught in horseshoe harbor. Hailstones pummel Hera's temple; wind plays shepherd huts like dropped stone flutes.
Stranded, I'm not sure whether to curse or thank the Furies—punishers of perjurers— for another night in the arms of a man who cannot love me.
Sculptors of colossal kouroi inscribed not only a name in the statue's thigh, but for whom he was made. Vainly, I scan my lover's body for a monogram.
Copyright Betsy Bonner
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Post by MoonyLuna on Nov 1, 2008 11:27:32 GMT -5
Featured Poet Betsy Bonner
Betsy Bonner's work has appeared in The New Criterion, The Paris Review, Parnassus: Poetry in Review, salon.com and other publications. She is working on a poetry manuscript. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and is the grateful recipient of fellowships to the Aegean Center for Fine Arts, the MacDowell Colony and the VCCA. A former director of the 92nd Street Y Unterberg Poetry Center, she teaches at the Pierrepont School in Westport, CT.
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