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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Just so.

i’m tying small knots
a macramé of indigenous drifts

pandering subtle threads
of ferocious softness

i'm slipping inevitable strings
and bonding supple thoughts

knitting an invisible net
by needling noiseless doubt

securing gaps in space
with a tapestry of screens

i’m fraying at the edges
and smoothing all the seams


©9.30.2010 heather brager 



Thursday, September 16, 2010

The waiting.

the room

could be a vacant tomb

an empty box

shipped over ground

from somewhere

beyond the range



and the freezing

sheets are smooth

and vast across

empty miles and miles

of damp and hungry neglect

against her legs



...but a table

is ready and waiting

dust on the dishes

frost on the panes

as and she longs

to glide beneath

winter’s looming

atmospheric change





©9.16.2010 heather brager

Thursday, September 9, 2010

To fall.

they plunged close to the surface
cupped hands and open mouths
silhouettes of birds skimming over
then swooping skyward's gradient
and ladling amber clouds

leaves settled an autumnal blanket
wandering on glassine reflections
swelling wings and sinking sunlight
with other vistas left to the distance

currents drifted over peaks and east
falling, lapping at the sharp edges
resisting chills that crept through the screens
echoing through the gloomy canyons
and decomposing summer’s damages

© heather brager 9.9.2010

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Predictable irrationality.

step back from the perimeter
with your simplistic twist
of scrawled and fractured practicalities

there is futile sanity
within the tepid oscillation
you dangle-swing
a predictable pendulum

you know this worth
these words flee from my lips
with adjunct effected reiteration

slink backwards to your
shaky corner and coil
amidst your trembling
and fallacious sanctum

© heather brager 9.2.2010