Summer 1991 • Vol. XIII No. 3 Poetry |

Arrangement in Gray

One, then another, in half-light,furrowed like sedge in the after-breath of rain,things gone dark in a world of losslift themselves up, flaring a little at the edgeof sight; one, and another, beyond hearingthey remember us,         cups in the wind, their shimmer and ease riffling the heart. I can't imagine even an afternoon,idled like this by frayed clouds blown back to earth, that does not end without you. I count on it, on the fingers of one hand,thumb, knucklebone, touching each hour. 

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Los Amantes

By Richard Garcia

One, then another, in half-light,furrowed like sedge in the after-breath of rain,things gone dark in a world of losslift themselves up, flaring a little at the edgeof sight; one, and […]

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