Carolyn D. Wright Poems

A girl on the stairs listens to her father
Beat up her mother.
Doors bang.
She comes down in her nightgown.
...

Some nights I sleep with my dress on. My teeth
are small and even. I don't get headaches.
Since 1971 or before, I have hunted a bench
where I could eat my pimento cheese in peace.
...

You could ask any one of them up by the lake
It had presence

Fold of coldness folded over cold
...

The visitor woke early as visitors are often

curious as to what will happen next
...

The set was on when she fell asleep
In black and white
a woman was gliding through a garden in period clothes
and a child was touching
...

People study the dingy chenille clouds for a sign.
People did what they have done.
A town, a time, and a woman who lived there.
And left undone what they ought not to have did.
...

Three people drinking out of the bottle
in the living room.
A cold rain. Quiet as a mirror.
...

She was changing on the inside
it was true what had been written

The new syntax of love
...

has been written in mud and butter
and barbecue sauce. The walls and
the floors used to be gorgeous.
...

the breath the trees the bridge

the road the rain the sheen

the breath the line the skin
...