Seasons in Upper Turkeyfoot
Rural in Nature, Transcendental in Temperament
Sunday, May 31, 2020
A Friend Visits
I leaned my bike against the shed,
my ride finished,
after you left,
orioles were hanging their hopes in the lilac,
its blooming done,
after you left,
the frogs in the reeds sang their hallelujahs,
after you left,
I sat with the silence of the hill.
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A Friend Visits
Untitled #5
Esoterica
The Woods Closes Over Him
Lost in the Latin Quarter
Not in Some Distant Place
Blur
A Place to Stand
Pavers
A Thousand Miles of Mist
Renewal in a Slow Spring
May in a Minor Key
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About J. O'Brien
J. O'Brien
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