Tag Archives: Loring Park

From West 15th

In rain and close air, the empty park haunts her view of what could have been. More solitude than romance, determination not despair, yet this damp quietude distorts all patterns. Subdued till a lone man trots along the southern path. … Continue reading

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Filed under Afternoon Poems

Moving Up Loring

The devil’s backbone takes her breath to feed the artesian well that spills into the pond she hopes to see from her sunroom window this time next year.

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Filed under Morning Poems

Surd

That mannequin torso I see inside the second floor corner apartment window facing West 15th is no Apollo. Has nothing but its center shell that won’t encase a heart to shape and display a wool great coat, button down cotton … Continue reading

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Filed under Night Poems

To the Fair

A tree drops a limb for me and misses. The gift  of life detaching to become a random crack  against concrete. On my walk on,  I won’t take it so hard.

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Filed under Morning Poems

Circle Poem

The last of the public pay phones, a dial tone to nowhere  backwards in a dog park is a hunt  for diamonds, is easier for some to fathom. Me,  I don’t know how to wear them, am seeking  other gems.

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Filed under Afternoon Poems

Connecting Flight

Free to walk in the rain in a park—to imagine a dial tone from the sole remaining  pay phone on the southeast corner where the sun might have crept in another afternoon. It might dry up  in time for true … Continue reading

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Irene Hixon Whitney Bridge

Would she know balance if  it knocked her off this pedestrian bridge  she stands on? Closed for repairs starting tomorrow,  it could be another unreliable witness.

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Filed under Afternoon Poems

Father of Minneapolis Parks

The first in the city to have electric lights. A hinge  to flex downtown lane over lane flung onto outdoor sculpture  with a cherry on top. I’m at the bottom of this brown hill  imagining a summer evening: Civil twilight … Continue reading

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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems

No Molesting Vegetation

I want to make a wish at an artesian well. Take me  to the old comfort station near the 125-year-old iron  footbridge. No longer providing relief to men, women, children passing by,  it aerates the pond. Who will aerate me?  … Continue reading

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Filed under Afternoon Poems

Black and White Sky Over Loring Park

A winter’s civil twilight breaks open a black bird swarm. That caw commotion over church bells reveals how little she knows.

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Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems