Three Poems ~ David Bengtson
Light Carried in a Jar  ...
Light Carried in a Jar  ...
Hood The hood obscures his face. He stands with his back to me holding what looks like a hockey stick. He is always there but never near. When he does turn I kn...
Renee’s Song It’s -8 degrees belowAs I watch Renee’ trudgeOut in deep snow, to herBirdfeeders she’ll go, with herBig bucketful of birdseedAnd fresh packets of s...
March 25, 7 a.m. &nbs...
The Present Gives Up Some Past She can’t shake it: This hour picked out like a dress that fits her and she looks nice in it or even very nice as he...
LONG VIEW Back when I wondered what I had to do to make it, I knew I would know it when I saw it, The way I would know a lion Flicking her tail in the gr...
The Tear in Her Blouse Her speech clipped as if by scissors, her walk a sling that shoots her into view, the tear in her blouse unknown to her. Her...
FIRST KISS ON THE LIPS angels were banished into neutral corners when your wet lips lazed up into mine winter sun belying thermometers and the thick scarves of ...
The Middle Distance, 2015 Trick or miracle—at that moment, the desire roughly the same—itreveals itself photographically after taking shape in dreams, like one ...
Scene: Late Summer Long time since a bird slammed into a window, though it’s the season. Rowan berries are plump and birds are feasting. This one, a robin, fell...