Sandy Hook, New Jersey
Summer, 2020
Afternoon tide,
waves nearly at
our feet, eyes closed
in sun — we no
longer care for
the dark blue sea —
all we forget,
have forgotten.
Cicadas, July
Cicadas rattle
the wind, its rise and
fall, sun in morning
trees, summer heat — we
are all held captive.
Mid-February at the Parapet
The snow bounds, binds us
to our pact, stillness
to catch us when we
fall — white trees, forest-
dark trunks to no end.
Burt Kimmelman has published ten collections of poems as well as nine volumes of criticism including his new selected essays, Visible at Dusk. More about him can be found at BurtKimmelman.com.