Lisa Russ Spaar Biography

Morning's mirage, disdainful & calm
as a mirror,
held the shorn bush that yesterday
flourished,
...

Turning to watch you leave,
I see we must always walk toward
other loves, river of   heaven
...

When this day returns to me
I will value your heart,
long hurt in long division,
...

Would rather be lying there? No.
Though my pillow is a backwards-wound watch.
Cream linen of another country
where I lay in troth with you, hands pressed
...

Espaliered tree of my quieting ovaries,
arched in their lightless cloister,
& his milky seed's circuitous passage there:
...