Summer 2004 • Vol. XXVI No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 2004 |

Azaleas

It was a town so quiet, the mailman was empty-handed. Why then nostrils of bloom, breathing so pinkly? Even the town crier had taken a vow of silence. Why at the house's edge, beneath a wide-eyed window? A pink so dense it begged hiding. Unsiblinged, unmated, the moon might find one rocking in a hedge of pink. It was a town clothed from head to toe: skirts draped its ankles, sleeves were buttoned tight at its wrists. So why a shimmered curtain, less a curtain than a sheer view of two figures on a bed, eyes affixed to a blue flickering? A town which kept its valuables locked beneath the lids of its citizens. Why a curfew, why an unlatched window? Blooms pink as baby mice, soft as tiny hands, cluttering the bush as if in celebration. Why a town that never smiled? A figure lifted an arm to the nightstand, drank long a glass of amber. Blue light flickered to the metronome of drama. Nobody touched nobody. Invisible figures mowed lawns soundlessly. The hall

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Photo of Cate Marvin

Cate Marvin has published four books of poems, most recently Event Horizon (Copper Canyon Press, 2022). She teaches at the College of Staten Island, City University of New York, and lives in Southern Maine.

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It was a town so quiet, the mailman was empty-handed. Why then nostrils of bloom, breathing so pinkly? Even the town crier had taken a vow of silence. Why at […]

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