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WINTER 2019-2020


Edgar Carlson


In late-spring, my Aunt Helen turned 99.
Her father had returned, from France,
in January 1919, and she was likely conceived
that September, and so, since this September,
though not turned 100, she has been living that long.
Her 95th birthday was white glove.
The following four were homegrown theme parties.
This year she gave me an envelope.

Auntie, thanks, for the poetry
from "Walt's Corner," you set aside for me.
You are eight beautiful aunts.
You keep me singing.
You are a watershed oracle mountain.
You are a gold-medal chrome soda fountain.

Edgar Carlson lives in Farmingdale, which is flatland just south of the Ronkonkoma moraine and due south of that part called West Hills.  The soil there is droughty but it grows. He is a landscaper and outdoors rain or shine. He tends to his Poetry as a poor farmer might work his three green fields.


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