Tag: poetry by adam donaldson powell
When the moon is in Fresno.
SATURN’S BLUES. when the moon is in Fresno and the sun sets a purplish haze over early-autumn skies, the cold winds of Hell breathe heavily against the hopes of local heroes and the women who made them. farmers stare off into the fields without realizing, and housewives pull their young close to their bosoms –…
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