Watermelon

Written by Garrison Benson in Poetry on Sunday, June 12, 2016.
How do we know
the presence of the Friend
draws near?
On a stump at the edge
of the field, someone
is opening a melon.
Every body knows.

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Reunion

Written by Garrison Benson in Poetry on Friday, May 27, 2016.
To greet you
in our reunion
I'd been saving
a moment
over a slow cup of tea,
but I gave it
to the cooling evening
before last.

The footsteps I'd take
when I saw you
at the fence, kissing
the ground with my toes,
not wanting to disturb ...

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Body

Written by Garrison Benson in Poetry on Tuesday, May 10, 2016.
This is a step in my story
when the ragtag affiliation
of superheroes—willful, egoistic,
well-intentioned—must recognize
the extent of collateral damage
incurred during Act II
and somehow become
a Team, one one-willed saintly body.

Gathered from disparate lives:
The Conductor, self-appointed leader,
who keeps the trains
running on ...

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Peace, Part II

Written by Garrison Benson in Poetry on Tuesday, April 19, 2016.

I don't know what you call the opposite of a land mine, but I found another today. I was cleaning and I found a dusty jar of kohlrabi pickles sealed in the summer just before the war. I've kept these pickles a long time—there were some days ...

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For Spring

Written by Garrison Benson in Poetry on Friday, April 8, 2016.
My prayer is to live
by this returning moment:
anger recognizes itself,
lays itself down
in a fresh bed
of cold soil,
giving itself back
to the original longing.

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