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Siblings: for Shiloh and Judah

Siblings: for Shiloh and Judah

Aug 22, 2016 | Commissioned, Gus Stevens, Quatrains, Songs for the Dead

Being eldest, she always knew the best places to hide for games of hide and seek and where to find the abandoned bird’s nest or the stones you needed to cross the creek with dry shoes. She was strong and fast and brave; she already knew most of the letters and...
A Song for Scarlett

A Song for Scarlett

Jul 10, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Regret, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Terza Rima

Scarlett, O Scarlett, you are self-destroyed because you would not see your truest friend and despised all you might have else enjoyed. I ache over you, as the pages end, though, yes, “Tomorrow is another day.” We knew your iron will would never bend;...
On Killing a Cat While Driving Home

On Killing a Cat While Driving Home

Mar 27, 2016 | Grief, Gus Stevens, Regret, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Victorian Sonnet

He’d sprinted blind into the open road and she didn’t have time to steer away. I told myself of mercy, something owed, when I drove the second car to hit the stray. I had aimed for the neck to make it quick yet still felt all the worse for paying it. The...
I Did Not Need Malice to Murder

I Did Not Need Malice to Murder

Mar 21, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Humor, Rhymed Couplets, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Victorian Sonnet

I did not need malice to murder the little Juniper, thin in its pot. She said, “Have you watered?” and I heard her though earnest and honest, I simply forgot. One can forget for a day, there is pardon, But if one forgets for a week, maybe not. True in love...
For Adam: a sonnet composed at church on the morning that I learned he’d taken his life

For Adam: a sonnet composed at church on the morning that I learned he’d taken his life

Mar 13, 2016 | Grief, Gus Stevens, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Victorian Sonnet

I remember, at fourteen, when I dropped my mother’s paring knife into the lake, how it seemed that time had slowed, may have stopped– but a moment too late. The sudden ache in my arms, too slow and too short to reach through watery darks, a blind hope to...
Where is the Boy? a Rondel for Stephaun

Where is the Boy? a Rondel for Stephaun

Mar 6, 2016 | Gus Stevens, Rondel, Songs for the Dead

“Look at the picture.      Where is the boy?” “Use your finger, like this, and point right here.” Some sounds come out of the scowling man, “We’re wasting time. Better to let him enjoy himself, stare at the sun, fondle a toy.”...
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