Sheila E. Murphy The White Gray Trees The white gray trees seize momentum by hand (whose hand) from scratch. The smooth ombudsman smooths its hand across clean bark on which to write a letter of love with love, some imprint of kiss points eavesdropped onto our private space we walk past and capture in large measure the beyond and clasp our hands and wait for birds and watch the change as wind exhales for you for me we settle on a view from here of everywhere that we decide equals some deity from any miniature distance waving back without warning that this is the place to be and love and notice being, loving now. Apologia I am not sorry I do not swim well enough It's something I do in an average way When I swim My brother swims as often as he can I do not especially enjoy being immersed in H2O Nor does water seem to like me I love the heat and prefer Not to require spritzes or splatter One thing, though: I like allowing myself to be average in something I do not like or want to do Something others appear to love doing themselves The pool looks blue and glistening I like to watch the tilt of the wavy water Flex in answer to breeze or recent occupants And add a little glowSheila E. Murphy’s most recent books are Sostenuto (Luna Bisonte Prods (2023) and Golden Milk (Luna Bisonte Prods, 2020). Murphy is the recipient of the Gertrude Stein Award for her book Letters to Unfinished J. (Green Integer Press, 2003). Murphy's book titled Reporting Live from You Know Where (2018) won the Hay(na)Ku Poetry Book Prize Competition from Meritage Press (U.S.A.) and xPress(ed) (Finland). Murphy has authored 45 books of poetry. Based on a background in music theory and instrumental and vocal performance, her poetry is associated with music. Murphy earns her living as a management consultant and researcher and holds the Ph.D. degree. She has lived in Phoenix, Arizona throughout her adult life.
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