About the Author Books Selected Poetry Selected Prose Comments Contact Home







poem from New England Primer
by Bruce Guernsey



GLASS


is the wind's half-brother,
born of Touch,
their promiscuous mother,
old, blind in her bed,
lusting for Silence,

that lover of flesh,
who took her one night
in an ecstasy of gesture,

like what I see
when the wind invisibly
tosses the branches
outside my window,
cold and silent.

 




Return to Poetry Index


image by Victoria Woollen-Danner







Copyright Bruce Guernsey. All rights reserved.