HILDRED CRILL
······························


Quite Suddenly the Woods


open up: light spreads
where it never was—
across the glossy roots,

the scatter of stumps
and the mud-daubed sticks
that make and hold a pond.

For work, be invisible.
Live under the water.
Maybe these might grow

into my head along with
the breaking: three pairs
of eyelids, two mouths—

one for gnawing, another defends
the throat—and hearing
for the switch of one leaf
.

 

 



 

Autumn at Peak, Pepperell Cove


In this house of margin
what you said, what I said
smacked holes through furious sleep


would we scavenge the leaves
behind us? The green ending

now, letting the yellow show.

Which mistakes would trap us,
no matter how sharp this cove
of pilotless boats?

I manage the afternoon
as if I were shadow,
undoing the stun of sky

after wake and wind,
and climbing full color
to mute the methodical year.

 

 

 

Masthead

Poetry

Adam Benforado
Mark P. Bowen
Patrick Carrington
Hildred Crill
Phil Crippen
Ruth Danon
Jehanne Dubrow
Melissa Jones Fiori
Ira Joe Fisher
Maureen Flannery
Jennifer S. Flescher
Rich Furman
Patricia Giragosian
Rebecca Givens
Charles Jensen
Daniel Khalastchi
Robert Nazarene
Simon Perchik
Emily Pérez
Frederick Pollack
Dan Rosenberg
Christopher Salerno
Jeneva Stone
Jay Surdukowski
Todd Swift
Barry Wallenstein
Fredrick Zydek

Reviews

LIZZIE HUTTON:
James Richardson's
Interglacial: New
and Selected Poems
& Aphorisms


DAVID KOEHN:
Frank Bidart's
Star Dust: Poems


KATHLEEN ROONEY:
Matthew Thorburn's
Subject to Change


Artwork

Kenney Mencher
Jo Adang

Contributors

 

© 2006 The New Hampshire Review. All rights reserved.