elysabeth faslund Poems

How long the Christian Vigils...
How long those silent nights
Of Sacred Fire,
Frightened Monks...
...

You rocked on your porch...Negroes nodded.
You inclined your head...to position hair combs.
Then fumbled over blesed beads
Whose creeds you crankily mumbled.
...

Ole T-Rex
Got bored one day
Walked out the woods
Proceeded to play...
...

I was asleep...sometime before dawn,
Then woke awfully cold...
Remembering dreaming...
...

Forget the trees, history books...
Remember those dumb, wide-eyed looks...
And actions from more than a few
Of those you thought you damned-well knew:
...

.
There is clean coldness in the sky today.
It has been swept with wings.
The air is nothing of the Earth today.
...

The mountain...it's soul...
Sentient or stone
Nudges upwards.
Centimeters over
...

A most lovely November...2006.
I'd turn my year on
Thanksgiving Day.
Every six years this lay in wait,
...

'How dear of you to let me out of jail....'
Beckett, dead in the Cathedral,
memories of his, and your father's, arms,
but that's only here-say heresy.
...

If I told you hawks' secrets,
Should you listen...
If I whispered willow shadows,
Would you listen...
...