Treasure Island

Marilyn Hacker


Exiles


Her brown falcon perches above the sink
as steaming water forks over my hands.
Below the wrists they shrivel and turn pink.
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Comments about this poem (Exiles by Marilyn Hacker )

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  • Michael Morris (2/10/2006 8:29:00 AM)

    Marilyn, why does this poem seem like one Hopper would have written if he couldn't paint?
    Brilliant!
    Many thanks.
    Mike (Report) Reply

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