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Poetry of K. A. Markee

Poetry of K. A. Markee
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The Blind

On Sundays too he would rise before dawn

and brew a pot of coffee over the fire,

then call the dogs with a backwards yawn

before packing up decoys, weights and wire

in a wicker backpack and two homemade hods.

I’d wait until I could not see my breath–

The sunrise over the lake he said was God’s

own reassurance in divine faith.

So he and I would watch it dissipate,

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One Response to Poetry of K. A. Markee

  1. sheri guptill November 24, 2008 at 7:32 pm #

    k.a.markee poems

    LATE NOVENBER poem takes me directly to that place and vivid images come to mind with emotions that make this poet so delightful to read —

    thank you for sharing

    will be watching for more markee poems

    s. guptill

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