ONLY poems listed here or in the current printed anthology are eligible for the 2017-2018 competition.
The damselfly folds its wings
over its body when at rest. Captured,
it should not be killed...
If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping ...
I would my soul were like the bird
That dares the vastness undeterred.
Look, where the bluebird on the bough ...
Then came the darker sooner,
came the later lower.
We were no longer a sweeter-here...
I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate ...
Every morning since the time changed
I have woken to the dawn chorus
And even before it sounded, I dreamed of it...
It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine ...
It hangs on its
stem like a plum
at the edge of a...
O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye;
The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail ...
His clumsy body is a golden fruit
pendulous in the pear tree
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