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Poetry by Jennifer Poteet Mallory 

Jennifer lives in New Jersey.  Visit her site.


© 2006 Jennifer Poteet Mallory




I love her giving, as she does
with generous freckled arms.
Once I saw Peg on a hill,
climbing the undulated ground
in sandals. In a blue silk dress.
Peg raised a hand, in salute,
as she saw me, then turned around
in the heat and walked the other way.
Her want to be alone apparent: Don't follow.
I can imagine that she smells like salt
and lemons, probably,
wringing her hands in a married house,
attentions attuned to her husband.
I wonder, does he honor her
after 27 years of marriage?
Does he cherish?
Does he obey?






My Lover Brings me Water

What succor!
When sustenance breaks,
a dam overflows on a hot day.
I guzzle the water with greed.
A simple gift, it streams, splashes
into my lungs, spleen,
veins. Spine.
Like the day he first offered
up his lips.
My ever-insatiable thirst.




All work is property of Jennifer Poteet Mallory.


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