DONNA SMITH'S POETRY
Age of Shadows
Cusp of Autumn
Eek! -- Haiku, cinquains, double dactyls and assorted folderol
Elegy for my National Geographic Collection
I'm a Poet, Don't You Know? -- Reading by Rachel Lindley (Requires Real Player)
I Wish I Were a Daffodil -- My first poem (Be afraid; be very afraid.)
Litany for a Woman's Hair
One Life Short of Nine
Pin of Obligation
Perhaps in May
Point of Reference -- With a synopsis of the revision process
So I Asked--A Sonnet
The Dog Takes Ownership
The Garden of Late
What a Pickle
While You've Been Away
FORTY-NINE AND HOLDING
A Birthday Sonnet
The sun had the audacity to rise
and scrutinize my squinting eyes; what spite!
Malicious Sol, you're cruel! I despise
the glee displayed when you should mourn my plight.
Conspiracies arise at every turn--
newspaper fonts are set at New Times one;
my bathroom scale tells lies and should be burned;
"New Math" has made the mile a longer run.
If governors can pardon crimes long past,
make them to be as though they never were,
(and since I look quite pale in sack and ash)
why can't a birthday clemancy procure?
I'm forty-nine? There's been a huge mistake!
I'll stay my age and have a slice of cake.
"I think we're all bozos on this bus." -- Firesign Theater
"You may call me a poet if someone writes it on my headstone."
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