poem index

poet

Susan Yuzna

Printer-friendly version

by this poet

poem
for David Foster

I had my order. Not of the choirs
of angels, but of the countries we called

in the stone dead heart of the night. Japan
was a young woman's voice, a cool river

through a thirsty land, sliding over my bone-
tired body like an icy, blue-green

wave. Australia was next--their