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A Dog’s Day
goes from kibble to praise
for the slick-sit
at the doorstep.
There are so few
definitive moments of good
prescribed by human. But
dog goes forth in the given
hours of his own,
to scents of sweet alyssum
past the door, a new breeze
risen that reeks
of places he’s never
heard of
and his master’s never
thought to smell.
Stewed Tongue
In the pot, it whispers through an iron
lip that breathes its secret of steam:
a whiff of pepper and bay, fluid mechanics,
garlic and the muscle-mouth of beef.
The lid giggles so you can’t help but break
the seal to peek inside, to sniff and prod
with forks. How long till supper?
The savor seeps and scalds, you can almost
taste it long before it’s done.
Call this the language of love, or
at least, hunger. From inside the bell’s
dumb iron mouth, the tongue sings.
New Year
You step into the twisted
entry as if drawn.
Strawberry jam’s splattered
on the kitchen ceiling,
where three young hoodlums
in the guise of your own
offspring hold the downstairs.
Above, doubt invades the sheets.
Last summer’s hazel leaves
are spent. This everlasting
winter, everybody’s got a grip
on cold. Come midnight
someone shoots off sparklers,
but they fizzle.
From one year to the next,
there are things to be
born, you say, and things
to be borne.
Taylor Graham Coal City Review editor Brian Daldorph calls this poet " a meticulous wordsmith, writing often of her experiences as a rescue dog handler.
Every word of each poem is carefully considered, and yet there is fluency and grace to her poems that sometimes seem like the mysterious
language of bird tracks in the snow. Taylor helps us to remember our links with the natural world." Graham has published four collections,
including Casualties ( Coal City Review) and Looking for Lost ( Hot Pepper Press), as well as poems in myriad publications. She is also
on the editorial board of The Acorn, a regional literary journal focusing on the western Sierra.
("Ten Poets to Watch", Writer's Digest April 2000)
Email: Taylor Graham
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