Poetry of

Daisy Elmore Tennant

Selections from

Shifting Sands

Miss Fitts and Miss Cellaney

Now the Trumpet

Compiled and edited by Sharon Smith

Apostrophe

Wedged between autumn and winter

like a dog-eared page,

this dull day protrudes

as though worn by too much handling,

with never enough light to turn

the violets' faces to the window;

and like the violets, I

lean toward an erstwhile other light

past burning now,

but in the afterglow, I know

that when the wild wings have flown

and Indian summer has spent its burning,

the pages will move

toward their final turning.

A Happiness Away

From off

the highest hill

that overhangs the bay,

the fog-ghost gulps the town

a happiness

away;

and I

climb slowly down

the back of yesterday

where fading embers burn

away.

Last update October 11, 2002

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