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norm milliken Oct 2012
shore slips tangent
once each turn
and life pivots
on blade’s pull

from age’s widened spiral
we watch to find
another oar

uncertain
how to circle
back to land
norm milliken Nov 2011
Fibonacci Series

their bodies,
more suggestion than shape,
stretch then swell,
trailing slime
on sidewalks,

an eternity
of space to cross
from grass to grass.

one,
then another
and another
undefine themselves,
wet antennae testing
air and sun,

shells slung on backs.
calcium calculations curling
ever inward.
norm milliken Aug 2010
old age arrives**

old age arrives
in a plain, brown box,
prepaid and taped
against intrusion.

loosely packed,
it rattles
in the handling,
invites curiosity and

with no return address
suggests
opening.
norm milliken Aug 2010
(trying to write away this heat)*

squirrel solstice

squirrels curled
in maple nests
are promises
built of acorns and seeds.

bunched in sleep,
they await the snow
that comes after night fall.

whisker twitching
twenty feet up,
squirrel dreams occupy trees.


        in monochrome season
        those gray and black bundles
        brush snow from limbs
        and punctuate the sky.
norm milliken Aug 2010
a dream of fantastic horses**

there were red horses.
white horses and spotted
horses.  horses so black
they shimmered crow-like
in the morning.

pouring across
the plains of sleep,
thunder horses,
lightning horses,
horses swimming in floods,
dying in deserts.
horses wading withers
deep in snow.

knife-hooved,
prarie-eyed,
mountain-thighed

memory horses,
lathered up unsaddled,
strung out like ribbons in the wind.
norm milliken Jul 2010
gun squad

we were death
wandering the hills.

pieces of puzzles
out of time and place.

we were worlds lost
beyond
sound and sense,

stumblings on ridge lines
looking for something
to ****.


        we were empty-eyed
        birds of prey,

        locked to earth
        under the weight of packs
        and guns
        and ammunition,

        trying to find wings
        that would fly us home.
I was an M-60 machine gunner with the Ninth Marines  in  South Vietnam, 1968
norm milliken Apr 2010
Fibonacci Sequence
            (after a photograph of snails)

their bodies,
more suggestion than shape,
stretch then swell,
trailing slime
on sidewalks,

an eternity
of space to cross
from grass to grass.

one,
then another
and another
undefine themselves,
wet antennae testing
air and sun,

shells slung on backs.
calcium calculations curling
ever inward.
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