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Ellen Browne Poem
God
walked across the moon
and you were born
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
street signals
yellow orange black
fast tracking
lights as fast as long silver ribbons
city streets
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
A babys crawl picks up lint and grime
she sits and inspects her hands
picks away the mitten yarn and rubs
her hands on her legs
The wary cat just close behind
has toys to offer share
This cat is baby's mothers cat
and more than a little aware
that mother will give extra time and treats
to baby's cat
as log as wary cat remains
friends
no cat in the hat
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2014
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Ellen Browne Poem
white sun
doesn't show the skunk
awaiting
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
Lost black clouds skitter across the sky
ice backs
reach to connect
black clouds as the blow across my window
heavy rain for days now
lost black clouds blow black against my eyes
I close them
lost in summary
lost in allegory
just
lost
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2014
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Ellen Browne Poem
a lost and other soldier
scanned across the sky
a film as big as texas
a man as much mountain high
i gripped the chair arms
lost in the space
between the cowboy words
a soldier of the prairie
a ranger of the plains
an american man whose low call
brought in the dogs
the cows remained the same
lost in the cowboy
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2014
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Ellen Browne Poem
I pinned the bobby pins in my hair
turning to inspect the effect
and suddenly my grandmother was standing there
behind me in the mirror
she wore her old timey apron (bib)
held her big stew spoon
and a slight frown,
like she wanted to direct me but couldn't find the words
so unlike her
Grandmother's hair was dark but I never touched it
I don't know how it felt
always the bobby pins crossed just right
near her temple
the pins wont hold in my hair
its long and fine
when I get to my desk they are falling out
but I got to see grandma in the mirror
strange things happen at work
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
A man with talent
39
seriously deranged
stalks the city stores for stones
he runs and throws away
certain colors, certain days
into water, the water calls
this boy is so far gone
he forgets his books and diplomas
he tries to read but the hot high voices
echo
he runs he's thin, music plays in his head
yet stones, he can't get enough
coats with pockets hold him down
head down to the wind
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
Light wind plays the curtain across her face
so tired
she feels the flick of it, and slits her eyes
just dusk
there is a wait and a cry from the hallway
and yet
light wind plays the curtain across her face
she sleeps
paralysis of a new mother the baby cries and still
she sleeps
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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Ellen Browne Poem
cradling his head in my lap
he soaks us both with tears
he rocks slowly hands around me
crying aginst his fears
too much of him is paralyzed
reality is just too big
he hides until he can't
and
then
explodes with anguish and fear
There is no cure for this malady
a brain with crazy wires
a wise and gentle beautiful young man
chasing anxiety and fire
looking out at the world, afraid to go
to step out and be magnificent
cradling his head in my lap
tears mingle with tears
of this certain painful sorrow
Copyright © Ellen Browne | Year Posted 2015
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