Untitled Country Review (ISSN 2152-7903), published quarterly during 2010-2013, features poetry, book reviews, photography, and short works of non-fiction. Thank you for visiting.


Showing posts with label David Filer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Filer. Show all posts

Issue 6: David Filer


by Paula Lietz


from Weather Notes
-- Portland Oregon


blue sky  February
even the east
wind   stops
to look

suddenly  everyone is
somewhere
else

looking at spades

looking

at the ground

hope rises it
has been held   down
so long

a voice  in that
brief  bright
stillness

a different day
now
a different light

happiness lasts
that   instant


David Filer lives in Portland, Oregon with his wife Marlene Anderson, who created and directs The Imani Project, an AIDS prevention and orphan support program in eastern Kenya. He has recent work in Third Wednesday, Slant and Red River Review, and has authored two chapbooks: Night Verse (Finishing Line Press 2005) and The Landscape There (Stone City Press 2009).

Previous Page                       Table of Contents                Next Page

Issue 4 - David Filer





Sonnets Diminishing

1.

In the air now, straight lines of gray snow,
rain pushing down through just-freezing air.
Snow, the way I like it, on the verge
of warming back into rain.  I try
to remember what you said you'd be
doing that day, what it sounded like,
turning to wonder, and maybe that
was the place I stopped and looked across
the water, looked through the snow, or what
was left of it, and saw lights coming
down the river, just lights, red, green, white,
ghostly at this distance, and yet real,
as if memory might be enough,
with more winter weather coming on.


2.

Back then, I probably called it hopeful,
the way, suddenly, there were pale green
leaves on our maples, and a soft haze
penetrated the cooling sunshine.
It was on such a late Spring evening––
no, it was that very Spring evening,
I turned left off of Bybee and slowed at
the crosswalk, just past the old Moreland,
and after how many years, I thought of you,
how the vibrant light of the neon
around the theater's deco marquee
was like your blue eyes.  But then, farther down
Milwaukie, waiting behind the 19 Bus,
I could not be sure either had been true.


--David Filer
 



Previous Page                        Table of Contents                        Next Page