Poetry from Patrick Sweeney

tree frog

making ends meet

        *

he had the directional uncertainty

of a clouded sulphur butterfly

        *

when the Talkies came in,

Squeaky got the gate

        *

deer have eaten the day-old morning glories again

        *

even though I never was, I identify with the has-beens

        *

her first tart strawberry

in a world of ‘try this’

        *

irises rain-shower wet

how gloriously transitory, the bearded purple 

        *

the alluvial age of the lost galoshes

        *

the summer I had to look up every word

        *

I learned the dead man’s float

in the Upper Darby creek

        *

he wasn’t the kind of guy

anyone would miss

       *

he thought the strength of the dragonfly

must be in her shoulders

        *

he had the late August posture

of a sunflower

        *

people make me nervous,

yet I think about them constantly

when they’re gone

        *

the black bread of quiet study

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