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Nixes Mate Review, Issue 9

Two Poems

Compose Journal


"Birth of Pleasure, II"



Audio of Cammy Reading Robert Frost's "Design"


Home Or Harm You Can Only Make One


The Blues in My Heart, The Rhythm in My Soul

Missouri Review


Concord Academy reading


Poetry Society of America


Mass Poetry

November 1968

Indolent Books

Transition Poem # 59: Poems in the Aftermath


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.