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The Poetry Of.
Peggy Dobreer...........................................


HAIL FULL OF GRACE

desert rock hands
after days of digging
in depleted soil like
a clay-clawed root
exposed for transplant

I am tucked away
again in warm dark
moist
underground places

Clip back my over
reaching branches
my hairpin grin
my morning fragile
glory less than the

punctuation at the
end of your vine
See
And did I mention

I'm too rooted now
to make the climb
Did I mention how
my roots are deeply
embedded fertile

unseen blended in
rock shale from the
ocean's white spray
I trace the moon on
your face still

hanging in heaven
while midnight falls
all
hail full of grace





NOTES TO MYSELF ON WRITING
{Dedicated to Maria Irene Forness and John O'Keefe}

Be a renegade
Sing Sausalito in your mind
Kick up your heels down the street
Kill the critic in your head
Avoid making sense if you can
Wait.... Shh�

Listen to your words
Taste each syllable
Allow yourself bias for God�s sake
Jump off the cutting edge of anywhere
and scare the shit out of yourself
Think of someone you want to sleep with
more than you believe it yourself
and look longingly at those words
as if they were that lover
on warm moist sheets

Admit your weakness
Do it for poetry
Do it for your life
And then do it again
to see if you can start over
and still hold on to your innocence
Do it as if it were the first time
and then do it again
Just to admit your weakness

Write out of your confusion
Don't feel you must be
Smart or noble or righteous
Find a body for confusion
Don't write up answers
as if you knew them
Write the questions
that hold you for ransom
Hold them close to your heart

Imagine them replicating a first kiss
that you think will last for always
At that moment anything is possible Certain things are probable
Writing is inevitable





ROOTS

Roots at the very center
Vines around vertebrae
Up rising chi

Lifted in the weight
Of uncompromising grief

Chenille of tears
On a father's cheek

Who said life was meant to be fair?

The hard rain comes in torrents

Soaks to the bone

Huddled together
We under tents in
the open hand of a Jewish God

Upon a moist
splayed open Earth
the lawn becomes more seasoned

grows stronger
stands up taller under the
tremors of loved ones hooves





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