Poem about Writing by Marilyn McIntyre

And in between i write
up at seven
muffled dawning
coffee – eight
and in between i write
study horos
cut off contact
sunken nine
and in between i hate
masturbation
satisfy nothing
ten is saved for rage
in between i quit
wrestle paper
red of day
elevenses come buy
ice cubes, ginger
snap, to noon
drinks and tokes and lies
in between i hope
one for ponder
questions, cosmos
times for sleeping, learning
and in between i write.
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Seasons Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

It’s spring here
or so they tell us
the squirrels don’t care
the weather’s not sure

Summer’s coming
always is, at the equator
deer rummage the forest floor
foxes bathe their pups
and the sun knows

Somewhere it’s autumn
the birds nest anyhow
dandelions grow, smiling
the grass stands up and moves
I, myself feel cool

Winter at the Pole
geese hiss their goslings
into bluebells, dancing
and the stream rushes along
he knows where he’s going

Spring is here
again without a timepiece
nature lets loose her bounty
the ice slinks into the water
time and infinity know.

Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn McIntyre, All rights reserved
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