Wednesday, 5 November 2014

1 Poem by Terry Martin

SORROW

Crows at dawn, so you remember, first thing.
Cracks like thunder, storms your sky.
Rattles and snaps venetian blinds.
Hums in the darkened kitchen.
Screeches and howls at 1 a.m.
Stutters, stammers, searching for words.
Like a rubber band on your wrist,
it snaps your heart, leaving
a raised red welt reminder.

Bionote

An avid reader and writer, Terry Martin has published over 350 poems, essays, and articles and has edited both journals and anthologies. Her book, The Secret Language of Women, was published in 2006, and her new collection, The Light You Find, is forthcoming from Blue Begonia Press in 2014. She teaches English at Central Washington University, and was honored as a U.S.  Professor of the Year by the CASE/Carnegie Foundation—a national teaching award given to recognize extraordinary commitment and contribution to undergraduate education. She lives with her spouse in Yakima, Washington— The Fruit Bowl of the Nation.

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