Jay Richardson

Jay Richardson Poems

water at dawn
running by fingertips
onto cold stone
as a robin intones
...

Those things now lost or never owned
Like memories of wings or our water's sleep
Linger unobserved in peripheries of light;
Flitting like moths between vacant moments.
...

the light at noon
spread over green:
fields of tenderest green
before the harvest
...

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The Best Poem Of Jay Richardson

Midsummer.

water at dawn
running by fingertips
onto cold stone
as a robin intones
ripe throated
staccatos
that bounce
along walls
that have seen it all

should one
be happy
wasting days
observing the gap
between taste
and ability
under a giddy sun
that announces all
with just a few
spare syllables

I made a song
to enchant the night
like Scheherazade
striving to hold off
the encroachment
of a decree,
but I've come apart
from the seam
snagged
on the narcissism
of nostalgia

those bright
waterfalls of dust
continue to gather
in fine heaps
by the curtain
and a brown river
smokes on
eddying
inscrutably
in the deep

we are just
migratory animals
that never
really move
I won't live
this day again
though I
live it again
a thousand times.

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