Poem: Still Life

Still Life

If memory loomed over Roethke
as large as my Buddhist friend
said, then I prefer to remember
what you remember: her earring,
his old wallet, a few nickels, a bolt,
collected in an unexpected corner.

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About jeffersonbeavers

Jefferson Beavers is a multimedia journalist based in Fresno, Calif. He teaches journalism and writing courses at Fresno City College.
This entry was posted in Poems, Words. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Poem: Still Life

  1. Gosia says:

    Jefferson, thank you for your poems. I really love reading them. They are small seeds of grace. This is a completely different side of you!

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