In 1985, while pursuing a business degree, I unhappily landed in a creative writing class and announced to the group that I thought Walt Whitman was a chain of schools throughout the United States. To my astonishment, I had found my pacing, abandoned prose, and started a poetry circle that has been meeting for 16 years. I have published three poetry collections, most recently: “Wonder” Little Lantern Press (out of Wales) . https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Laurie+Byro I am the Poet in Residence at the West Milford Township Library and despite it all, love New Jersey, and have lived here almost 60 years.
Send Forth a Raven
Others had gone before me; I didn’t give you
the attention you deserved. I tried to lie perfectly
still: in my imagination, I became my imagination.
You are a mountain waiting for me to appear.
I practice dying by sleeping in the bottom of an ark.
While I stayed still – oh so still in my blue flight –
a field filled with black angels where lonely brothers
write. You say I am a dove or a snow storm
making the world below seem more complete.
If you lift my dark tributary of braid, you’ll see
my roots are dark. I write notes to you on the dull
back of silver foil. I wanted to bring riches to our nest.
After all this waiting for land and not sky, I bring back
to you an olive branch, a sweet plant growing in my mouth.
(from Luna, Aldrich Press)
©2016 Laurie Byro
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