Saturday, January 19, 2013

A Poem by James Owens

late in the year

shelterless bird song
floats through rain,
darkens clouds
still, you can find me
the dandelions I dedicated to you
shine in wet grass
like young girls, one after another,
trembling --
each skittish tree
lights and rustles
under the sky’s
reckless caress
still in the mind of the beloved
the leaf is trembling
green on the black branch
even after
this sky swallowed
the winter wind
James Owens divides his time between Wabash, Ind., and Northern Ontario. Two books of his poems have been published: An Hour is the Doorway (Black Lawrence Press) and Frost Lights a Thin Flame (Mayapple Press). His poems, reviews, translations, and photographs have appeared widely in literary journals, including recent or upcoming publications in The Cortland Review, The Cresset, Poetry Ireland, and The Chaffey Review. He blogs at

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