The Woods [poem] by Edward Palumbo


near me are thick
with brush and shrubs
and the dog gets in there sometimes
when he escapes out the sliders
and then it is a waiting game
i stand outside the woods and stare at him
he stands in the brier and stares at me
and he always does it at the worst possible time
like the other day
when I had to visit my very ill mother
after her ulcer operation
and I was sick with worry and flushed with dread
but she seems to be just a little better
even if she is not completely out of




[Refer: This piece put the editors in mind of Renée Ashley’s poem “The Crazy Dog Lady Ponders a Photograph from the Twenties.”]

Edward Palumbo is a graduate of the University of Rhode Island (1982). His fiction, poems, shorts, and journalism have appeared in numerous periodicals, journals, e-journals and anthologies including Rough Places Plain, Flush Fiction, Tertulia Magazine, Epiphany, The Poet’s Page, Reader’s Digest, Baseball Bard,  Dark Matter, and He writes for he loves to create new universes, however small, however doomed, and then again.

Image by Isengardt

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