“Scotia: A Paean to Iron and the Barrens” I’ve walked near ruins in December. They look as though the heavy concrete should give with each gust of wind. They should creak, moan, groan and groan like uncles who lost legs in the war. But they don’t. They stand, lonesome watchers who lost their eyes when … More Scotia: A Paean to Iron and the Barrens
“Heartwood” An old sycamore tree slid when the river bank quit.The slope liquefied into muddy fleshin the ’13 flash flood. One mighty mottled branch drifted on the river over stones lain over with stories not even they remember. A quiet man with hard hands sat on a sheet rock where the branch rested shy of … More Heartwood: A #poem
“Like the surface tension” Perched on her toes she watched liquid ribbons stream over silt and slate. Her fingers met the run’s meniscus, forming spandrels round her fingers’ tips. I know her touch among browning leaves falling from tulips and sycamores, feeling like the surface tension surrendering to her touch.
The last poem I posted, “The Omega Rite,” is something of this poem’s inverse twin. Their structures and themes come from the same place but move in almost opposite directions before meeting again. They are, then, the alpha and the omega of the poems I’ve written over the last year’s project, encompassing their themes and … More The Alpha Rite: See the end at the beginning and the beginning at the end
Peter Walks for Democracy 