KELLEY WHITE
 
 
Edge City Shorts

Tivoli

If a dog were brother
hurrying at twilight
and the trees broke the ice
sky to sweetness I’d let
my blisters rattle the key
home I’d lap up the straw
at your heels. 

* * *

Venie

long gray braids pinned up
around a face that will be
mine by tomorrow


* * *

when Coyote came to me

I knew to choose a feather
knew to set stones in a circle
--each surrounded by seed--
I knew to open my throat and
swallow wind, I knew to keep 
silence, oh little one, my hand 
is salt

* * *

when you touch me: a
miracle, like the few stars
in the city sky

* * *

i will find three stones
for the children of my heart:
smooth, round, to be held

* * *

old man pimp
fixing a little pink bike
for a babygirl

* * *


braid gently
teach deliverance
linger weightless

* * *

Fourteen

sucking her thumb in
the waiting room waiting for
the pregnancy test

* * *

Our Gang

Two pit bull pups,
one black with white socks,
one white with a black circle
around his eye, sniffing at
the blackened snow. Luckily
they both have collars. 
My heart can stay closed.

* * *


beat up Chevrolet, 
one good head light held open
by frayed rope, blinking 

* * *


Suede hat, sharp; too big
coat; hand-made scarf; takes my dimes,
tells me, “You be good.”

 Copyright © 2003 Kelley White

 

 

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