Poems
Links:
Exclusive in New York for Bergdorf Goodman
Nixes Mate Review, Issue 9
Compose Journal
Audio of Cammy Reading Robert Frost's "Design"
YouTube
Home Or Harm You Can Only Make One
Poets.org
“The Blues in My Heart, The Rhythm in My Soul”
Missouri Review
Concord Academy reading
“Hunting”
Poetry Society of America
“Ring"
Mass Poetry
Indolent Books
Transition Poem # 59: Poems in the Aftermath
Poem:
She Summons Her Daughter
to please come over, late at night,
ice now black on the front steps.
She summons her out of sleep,
snow thick on the window sills
in the lee of the house's hot breath,
her own sighing live as smoke.
The cold has soaked her bones.
Her daughter must find a way
to warm the rooms, keep out
the sounds of wild dogs
in the marsh behind the house.
Taking the trash to the curb
tonight, she felt their eyes
on her and tripped, shuffled back
to the house in her bathrobe—
her husband's bathrobe—blue
and warm as fur, easing her down.
She waited in the kitchen,
yellow light leaking in with
the wild dogs' whines, the moon
invading again, preventing sleep.
She finds herself in the hall,
wood floor popping to her soft step,
then her Russian carpet of roses.
She pulls the robe tighter, waits
to hear the wheels turn in.