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  • Michael Felix

Michael Felix: three poems

The Ravens Know

The ravens know

When the year

Has turned

North winds

Come ripping down

Flighty birds

Of summer


Eagles hang

On that wind

High over

The lake

Fish on their minds

Moving is

On mine

Doesn't matter where

Just go

The ravens know

—Michael Felix

Where the Lilacs Grow

The dead speak in riddles

From the lip of the grave

Of the things they’ve seen

Across the river

Where the lilacs grow

—Michael Felix

Coteau des Prairies

March winds flow around grey hills

The silence moves from

Place to place

In an interesting way

All of the dead grasses

Bend the same way

Pointing somewhere

Clean round lines

Clean round hills

Flat horizon line

I should leave

I would leave

If only I knew why I came

—Michael Felix


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