Poetry of
Daisy Elmore Tennant
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Selections from
Shifting Sands
Miss Fitts and Miss Cellaney
Now the Trumpet
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Compiled and edited by Sharon Smith
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Apostrophe
Wedged between autumn and winter
like a dog-eared page,
this dull day protrudes
as though worn by too much handling,
with never enough light to turn
the violets' faces to the window;
and like the violets, I
lean toward an erstwhile other light
past burning now,
but in the afterglow, I know
that when the wild wings have flown
and Indian summer has spent its burning,
the pages will move
toward their final turning.
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A Happiness Away
From off
the highest hill
that overhangs the bay,
the fog-ghost gulps the town
a happiness
away;
and I
climb slowly down
the back of yesterday
where fading embers burn
away.
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Last update October 11, 2002
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