Issue 144

Summer & Fall 2013

Image from When Walt Whitman Was a Little Girl

Poetry Stephen Dunn Poetry Stephen Dunn

A Coldness

I don't know if it's a coldness

or just how the body, overloaded,

tends to shut down,

but as my brother neared death

I felt nothing that resembled grief.

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Poetry Stephen Dunn Poetry Stephen Dunn

The Little Details

The ice-maker in his house is stuck, he says,

a little piece of ice jamming the opening,

and I tell him that the earthquake in Arezzo

was close to where I vacationed last year

when the world was Tuscan and good.

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