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Two Poems by Burt Kimmelman

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Robin, Spring

The robin, claws hidden in

tall grass, hops forward and sings

a solitary note, hops

once more, stopping to sing two

notes, which loop through the air, then

tilts its head to eye the ground,

flies off to a nearby tree.

Thanksgiving Morning

Red flowers

on their stems

in a glass

vase of fresh

water on

a wooden

table where

a petal

has fallen

ā€“ autumn sun,

a wayward

guest, shines through.

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Burt_KimmelmanBurt Kimmelman has published seven collections of poetry, the most recent The Way We Live (Dos Madres Press, 2011); Gradually the World: New and Selected Poems, 1982 ā€“ 2013 (BlazeVOX [books]) is forthcoming. He has also published a number of books of criticism and scores of essays on medieval, modern, and contemporary poetry. He teaches at New Jersey Institute of Technology.

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