American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Contemporary · Online Anthology · Online Magazine · Periodical · Poetry

M.J. Iuppa

What do they call the sadness of a solitary sleep?
                                                     −−− Pablo Neruda
There is a certain remoteness to the puddle.
 Its brackish water ripples in goose bumps,
concealing mud’s sole contemplation that
lies just below the surface, dreaming of
your misstep . . .

— M.J. Iuppa, “Mud,” Poetry Pacific Tuesday, 5 November 2013

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