DORAINE BENNETT

THE INNISFREE POETRY JOURNAL

Doraine Bennett

AT A WORN PIANO IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM

He worries over a diminished seventh⎯
He just finished his sixth, and still
Has no tonic for the melody behind his eyes.
He searches for a phrase, one to capture the face
Of the woman he followed home,
And listens to himself listen to the song
She hears across the room.
He's not convinced that he won't leave,
So he looks for a reason to stay,
Singing, "They've come to take me home,"
Like one who still wishes they would.

STILL, SHE CANNOT WRITE THE SPRING

It was a cold Christmas
That chilled the roots and left no promise
Against the hard consonants of November.
A songless sparrow picks lichen
From trees standing bare in the wind
And listens with her for a touch
Of sunlight, for words to melt the icy ground,
To bear the burden of a crocus
Rising through frozen earth.

Doraine Bennett
Doraine Bennett lives with her husband in Columbus, Georgia, where she is editor of the Infantry Bugler. After raising four children, she went back to school, finished her BA in Professional Writing, and began writing poetry. She also writes for children.

Home
Current Issue
Submissions
Contributors' Notes

Deborah Ager

Karren Alenier

John Allman

Anne Becker

Mel Belin

Bruce Bennett

Doraine Bennett

Cliff Bernier

Doris Brody

Trina Carter

Grace Cavalieri

Norma Chapman

Maritza Rivera Cohen

Yoko Danno

Barbara DeCesare

Donna Denizé

Julie Enszer

Colin Flanigan

Roger Fogelman

Martin Galvin

Barbara Goldberg

JoAnne Growney

Sarita Hartz

James C. Hopkins

John Hoppenthaler

Laurie Hurvitz

Donald Illich

W. Luther Jett

J. Ladin

Diane Lockward

Jason Maffettone

Judith McCombs

Louis McKee

Larry Moffi

Miles David Moore

Yvette Neisser

Brent Pallas

Lee Patton

Hilary Tham

Rosemary Winslow

Kathi Wolfe

Ernie Wormwood

More

Email this poem

Printer friendly page

Last Updated: Sep 16th, 2007 - 08:34:32