Deborah Ager Poems
|2.||The Tortoise In Keystone Heights||1/1/2004|
|4.||Night In Iowa||1/1/2004|
|5.||Santa Fe In Winter||1/1/2004|
|9.||The Space Coast||1/1/2004|
|10.||Night: San Francisco||1/1/2004|
Comments about Deborah Ager
Night: San Francisco
Rain drenches the patio stones.
All night was spent waiting
for an earthquake, and instead
water stains sand with its pink foam.
Yesterday's steps fill in with gray crabs.
Baritone of a fog horn. A misty light
warns tankers, which block the green
after-sunset flash. My lover's voice calls
to others in his restless sleep.
The venetian blinds slice streetlights,
light coils around my waist and my lover's neck,
dividing him into hundredths.
Would these fractions make me happier?
My hands twist into a crocodile.
My index ...