Lisa Zimmerman: Thinking About Dean Young and the Anthropocene & Another Country
I’m doing my best, balancing hope on the head of a pin,
following those other steadfast travelers exiting the shop, holding
their buzzing phones, their many cups of Joe.
Lisa Zimmerman: Florida Storm
By the time a soft wind arrives from the sea
it has ruffled the fur of hundreds of mammals
Lisa Zimmerman: Three Self-Portraits
In the first self-portrait you’ll see me perplexed, holding a painted egg in my hand, sage green with a tumble of pink roses and a yellow bird floating. The egg … Continue reading
Lisa Zimmerman: Loft
She returns as a red-winged blackbird or maybe
all three blackbirds swinging now on the feeder
Lisa Zimmerman: Missing Billy
You wore sobriety like a t-shirt
with the sleeves hacked off.
Lisa Zimmerman: Testament
I believe the truth needs no defense.
I believe that feelings might not be facts
but they matter all the same
Lisa Zimmerman: That Blue
When the poet said blue city of bees
I was reminded of the blue cotton robe
my husband gave me, a shade my mother loved
