My shirts on the line (One sleeve has fondly blown Around its neighbor's shoulders) Look like drunks at a funeral. Raindrops open parachutes Shading off to snow. The back fence leans in And curves down like a breaking wave. Beyond it The slender lodgepole pines Stand to close together You couldn't walk through them In your body. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAR THAT ISN'T WHAT YOU THINK by JAMES GALVIN THE CENTER OF GRAVITY by DAVID IGNATOW SHE WEEPS OVER RAHOON by JAMES JOYCE FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE by EMMA LAZARUS DOMESDAY BOOK: JOHN SCOFIELD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |