Claudia Emerson

(13 January 1957 / Chatham, Virginia)

Claudia Emerson Poems

1. Bee 5/28/2018
2. Catfish 5/28/2018
3. Drybridge 5/28/2018
4. Early Elegy: Headmistress 5/28/2018
5. Early Elegy: Smallpox 5/28/2018
6. Eight Ball 5/28/2018
7. Frame, an Epistle 5/28/2018
8. Ground Truth 5/28/2018
9. Lifeguard 5/28/2018
10. Metastasis: Worry-Moth 5/28/2018
11. On Leaving the Body to Science 5/28/2018
12. Stable 5/28/2018
13. Vortex 5/28/2018
14. Bone 5/28/2018
15. REUNION WEEKEND 5/28/2018
16. WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 5/28/2018
17. PHYSICAL EDUCATION 5/28/2018
18. GREAT DEPRESSION STORY 5/28/2018
19. ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS: THE RIGHT WHALE 5/28/2018
20. The Polio Vaccine, Chatham, Virginia, 1964 3/21/2012
21. The Spanish Lover 3/21/2012
22. The Mannequin Above Main Street Motors. 3/21/2012
23. Beginning Sculpture: The Subtractive Method 3/21/2012
24. The Physical Plant As Prologue 3/21/2012
25. Surface Hunting 3/21/2012
26. Photographer 3/21/2012
27. Frame: An Epistle 3/21/2012
28. Stable 3/21/2012
29. Posessions 3/21/2012
30. Orchid Anatomy 3/21/2012
31. Ephemeris 3/21/2012
32. Pitching Horseshoes 3/21/2012
33. Funny Valentine 3/21/2012
34. After The Affair 3/21/2012
35. The Bat 3/21/2012
36. Second Bearing 1919 3/21/2012
37. Breaking Up The House 3/21/2012
38. Piano Fire 3/21/2012
39. Animal Funerals, 1964 3/21/2012
40. Homecoming 3/21/2012

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Best Poem of Claudia Emerson

Bone

It was first dark when the plow turned it up.
Unsown, it came fleshless, mud-ruddled, nothing
but itself, the tendon's bored eye threading
a ponderous needle. And yet the pocked fist
of one end dared what was undone
in the strewing, defied the mouth of the hound
that dropped it.
The whippoorwill began
again its dusk-borne mourning. I had never
seen what urgent wing disembodied
the voice, would fail to recognize its broken
shell or shadow or its feathers strewn
before me. As if afraid of forgetting,
it repeated itself, mindlessly certain.
...

Read the full of Bone

Aftermath

I think by now it is time for the second cutting.
I imagine the field, the one above the last

house we rented, has lain in convalescence
long enough. The hawk has taken back the air

above new grass, and the doe again can hide
her young. I can tell you now I crossed

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