A Poem by John Glaze

the hip

this Sycamore attracts me
always
how it stands against the sky
at sundown and night, especially in Winter.

up high a folial corpse vibrates like
a jack of clubs on bicycle spokes on hot
Summer days.

clouds quickly cover and uncover and
recover the moon.  feels like rain:
that cozy, muggy, warm, non-warmth
of odd Winter moisture.

although the nurse said her
hip
wasn’t hurting like the blazes.

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About John Glaze

John Glaze lives with his cat and dog on the plains of Oklahoma where the stark beauty greatly influences his writing.  He has published one book of poetry, A Year in the Life of Empty: poems.  He is also a photographer of nature, people, and still life.