by Norma Cole
Elegy for Leslie Scalapino
Nevermore is just a word
The crease of life
Rain's sweet scent or
The erasure of rain
Localized deafness—
As the wind folds other things
Go, go out and play
The nothing that stops
Time—check it
Fresh as rice powder
In the wind, perfect
Memento, remember
She lives
Copyright ©:
Norma Cole
Last updated November 29, 2022