Excerpt from the title poem, Holding Place
Held to, the dust in the wall
as a day to introduce.
The lines lean in upon
the ones and twos.
For casks in the blood
before dusk makes purpose.
Moving along the one
square, broken from
a house in cards. The seams
no longer visible.
2 comments:
i do like the seamless rhythm, so much so, that i may purchase your chapbook, Michael! ;-) Denise
Fine poem.
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