Kim Stafford: Four Poems
Her text says the bombing is getting
closer. She dozes, there’s a blast, a rattle
of debris falling somewhere near. She says
every bomb makes an earthquake. Her heart
stops. She says the forces are getting closer.
Kim Stafford: American Crazy Quilt
John Henry’s hammer ringing
twinkle, twinkle little bombs bursting in air
Kim Stafford: Wren’s Nest in a Shed near Aurora
Three tiny eggs in thistledowncupped in a swirl of grass in the pocket of the tool beltI hung on the wall of the shedwhen it finally stood complete—will be three … Continue reading
Kim Stafford: Poems for a Cause
Maybe we’re past hints and whispers,
our chance gone for subtle scents
and fugitive flavors—time for coffee
black, jolt of onion, garlic unadorned.
Kim Stafford: Top Hit
But comrades, if we kill him, someone will make
a martyr song and it will become the anthem sung
by thousands in the streets
Kim Stafford: Four poems about the current war
How much rain to fill the Volga?
Not soon, the end of weeping.
