seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Yemen
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Maldives
seen from Maldives
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Maldives
seen from Türkiye
"What Keeps" - C. D. Wright
We live on a hillside close to water We eat in darkness We sleep in the coldest part of the house We love in silence We keep our poetry locked in a glass cabinet Some nights We stay up passing it back and forth between us drinking deep
What Keeps after C.D. Wright
We lived on a street named for the fruit that grew on the trees In summer We plucked them ripe from the branch ate until our fingers were glistening rubies and our bellies were full as the face of the moon In autumn We slept undressed under a blanket of stars Made enough love to heat every room in the house We kept hope preserved in glass jars and saved them for a rainy day When winter came We stayed in passing spoons between us licking them clean It was enough to keep us smiling through spring
- Cora Finch
What Keeps
We live on a hillside close to water We eat in darkness We sleep in the coldest part of the house We love in silence We keep poetry locked in a glass cabinet Some nights We stay up passing it back and forth between us drinking deep
- C.D. Wright, from One with Others
“What Keeps” - C. D. Wright
We live on a hillside close to water We eat in darkness We sleep in the coldest part of the house We love in silence We keep our poetry locked in a glass cabinet Some nights We stay up passing it back and forth between us drinking deep
"What Keeps" - C. D. Wright
We live on a hillside close to water We eat in darkness We sleep in the coldest part of the house We love in silence We keep our poetry locked in a glass cabinet Some nights We stay up passing it back and forth between us drinking deep
What Keeps, by C.D. Wright
We live on a hillside close to water We eat in darkness We sleep in the coldest part of the house We love in silence We keep our poetry locked in a glass cabinet Some nights We stay up passing it back and forth between us drinking deep
it is beyond me that roosters are not called alarm cocks
