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Four Poems - Hazel Smith Hutchinson

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when it rains

don't you remember girl
how you'd walk the hill
with your face turned toward
the dark day and feel the angry rain
against your thick skin

and you'd cry and heave up
the ugly stuff while you walked the hill
and as your tears became one
with the rivers on your cheeks

you knew
no one would know
why in the rain
you walked the hill


Autumn Interlude

at one end
of the teeter totter
a pretty pink sweater
at the other end
a black shirt

their gray hair sparkles
in the sun


Beneath Edna St. Vincent Millay's Statue
Camden, Maine, Summer '99

My mother, my sister, Edna, and I
every so often glance across the harbor
rich in summerpeople boats and ships

while we engage
in more sublime matters:
each other's presence and poems.



see how the sandy shore elbows its way
out into the blue and how the tips of the
mountains dangle like mature breasts into
the midst of the pool at the same time the
aged spruce fingers poke and prod the clouds
which seem to simply want to be
left alone



Hazel Smith Hutchinson is an American writer.

Hazel Smith Hutchinson:
"During the winter storm of '78 Hazel packed up everything she owned in her '74 VW and headed west with her Kansas-born, soon-to-be husband. Leaving her childhood home of Bucksport, Maine, USA, Hazel and her husband chose to settle and raise their family in the Midwest. She loves being a mom, reading, and writing poetry. She is a member of Prairie Poets & Writers, who have an anthology coming out this fall entitled PlainSpoken: Chosen Lives, Chosen Words."


Notice © 2000 IP and the author

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