page six
 

so beautiful                         I can't even stam                                                  mer right

page seven
 

This moonless night,                         this hush                         of falling snow -                                      by lamplight                                      your five haiku . . .

page eight
 

Eyes squeezed,                         the tabby in the bookstore window                         sleeps -                         I imagine you here,                         your arm through mine

page nine
 

such an affection                         for this only spider                         Christmas alone

page ten
 

SCRAWLED ACROSS THE MOTEL MIRROR HER HATRED IN LIPSTICK

page eleven
 

a snake released -                         the feel of it                         stays in my hand

page twelve
 

hunter's moon                         the cat comes home                         faintly smelling of wood smoke

page thirteen
 

had to do it -                         squeeze the eyes                                                    of the dead fish

page fourteen
 

Staring at                         the kitchen linoleum,                                                    I can still find,                         after all these years,                         a familiar face or two

page fifteen
 

"Just look at the mud on your pants!" - in his fist violets for her

page sixteen
 

Her breast fits                         like a fruit in the curve                         of the small guitar -                         and I would be her Picasso                         some Spanish afternoon

page seventeen
 

I'm just saying                         how good it is to see her                         when suddenly                         she sticks out her tongue -                         catches a snowflake

page eighteen
 

her diary -                         if only I hadn't forced                         its tiny lock

page nineteen

f i n i s ___________________________________________________________________

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Larry Kimmel ______________________________________________   Larry Kimmel was born in 1940 in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. He holds degrees from Oberlin Conservatory and Pittsburgh University, and has worked at everything from steel mills to libraries. He has been publishing poetry for the past twenty-five years and has five collections of poetry, "Lights Across the River," "Pedal Point",  "alone tonight," "the inadequacy of long-stemmed roses," and "the necessary fly," as well as a short novel, "A Small Silent Ordeal." He lives with his wife in the hills of western Massachusetts.

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thank you Larry for sharing your poems __________________________________________________________________     if you have enjoyed the small selection of Larry's poetry presented in this second feature of profiles in stillness on dew-on-line, you may be pleased to know that you will be able to read more of this prolific poet's work in  still 3, 4, still 2 one - four, still 3 one - four, still 4 one - four, and still 5 one - three. none of the work featured in this section has appeared in still. these editions of still are available from back editions on still's website

all featured poems copyright Larry Kimmel 2002