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Day Haul
Of Day Hauls for Joseph, my student, sophomore, Lubec, Maine It’s a pier only punts and dinghies can moor to at the slack tide watch its flat as glass rise and decline wide into the parting lips of the bay cliffs be drawn down that channeled throat and out to the Atlantic. Here a magic waxing moon hauls on each wave, see how days the table of the pier deck is categoric each eye socket rub a soft clink rise and rub fall along the pier piling. Days the deck is a gang- way ramp on the ebb watch the men in December in February ready their rigging and motor out and tie off their punt at the buoy the gear glistening in the moony ice. ...
The Sentry As Witness
The Sentry As Witness three days the moon will be full again and in the night while we sleep while we turn when we can’t sleep an owl will ride the never stopping thermal across the moon’s face and be just a shape – just a shadow briefly obliterating the light that’s cast the path of a stray rabbit stunned stiff in being seen. it makes me want to say this entirely out of context: not all marriages not all childbirths not all wild night embraces are meant to be anything else but or beyond the brief mouth on mouth, claw penetrating skin, the situation peeled back in the bright path breaching the white under- belly now draped in the patient maple is an opportunistic claw tipped now in the vicious verm...

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