S. R. Lavin

Rookie (4/2/45 / Springfield, Massachusetts)

S. R. Lavin Poems

1. The Breeze Provokes Me 12/25/2005
2. Perdido 2/12/2006
3. On The Beach 3/30/2006
4. The Best Part Of The Day 5/18/2006
5. American Homeland 1/30/2007
6. His Dilemma 1/30/2007
7. Picture Perfect 12/23/2005
8. In The Shadow Of Dudley Mountain 2/5/2011
9. Walls Of Art, Walls Of Separation 2/6/2011
10. Ocean Marsh At Dawn 3/11/2011
11. Dire Times & Endless Desire (Like A Streetcar) 3/16/2011
12. The View From 21b 3/17/2011
13. Amish Country For M. J. Lavin 6/4/2011
14. Glint Of Sun 10/29/2011
15. Glazier 10/29/2011
16. Reflections In The Sun 11/7/2011
17. The Great Awakening Nov.2011 11/21/2011
18. Indian Lake For S. R. H. 3/25/2013
19. Crossing Lake Champlain With You 12/12/2005
20. Park Bench 101 12/12/2005
21. In The Field Were Fireflies 12/12/2005
22. Visions Of My Mother & Beyond 12/12/2005
23. The Geese Don'T Know What Day It Is 12/16/2005
24. Two Doves 12/23/2005
25. Sawed In Half 12/23/2005
26. My Son Slept In Red Cloud 11/28/2005
27. Blue 71 12/6/2005
28. Outermost, A Man Alone 12/7/2005
29. My Secret Life 11/27/2005
30. The King Of Hearts Is Dead 11/27/2005
31. Eternal Being 11/27/2005
32. Where Did The Llamas Go? {or, Being There With You} 12/23/2005

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Best Poem of S. R. Lavin

Eternal Being

Glimpsing through the laurel and lilies
I catch sight of four women playing tennis
in the heat of a summer day.
The scene recalls to mind
the theory
that human beings
evolved from apes.

These are the first steps we take
toward each other, to be generous -
to be willing to give, and forgive;
to this extent, unlike the animals,
we express divine nature in word,
passing on the hope
that who we are
beyond the heavens
and Time.

How is it we apprehend eternal being in us?
How is it we see the likeness
of the one who made...

Read the full of Eternal Being

Blue 71

Stopping on the bridge, just a short bike ride from town,
on a lonely stretch of new york highway -
where the marsh maps the land -
if you listen you hear
the rivulets like blood
pulsing under your skin,
the rustle of grasses
and milk thistle tops
like fingers

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