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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,

lying in wait for a chance to imitate

the mellow rasp or nasal hailing call

in ruffled light behind the deadfall

and under the waning eye of Orion

the dog’s Hup our command bird on, bird on.

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Updated Monday, November 24th, 2008
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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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