Early Times | R.A. Allen


Sweet as a front porch julep
we are in the early times
of our love. That amber sun
now touching the tree line
is not so much setting
as inviting us to sip
the mellow promise of
our lives to come.

We don’t know that the
hard times are gathering.
Crop failure and foreclosure.
The reciprocal adultery.
And how could we even guess
I’d one day shoot your
tilted brother in a back-roads
version of self-defense?

But at this moment
if we sensed any of it,
would we believe?




R.A. AllenR. A. Allen’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in the New York Quarterly, The Recusant (UK), Mantis, RHINO, Gargoyle, JAMA, and elsewhere. His work was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. He lives in Memphis. More at http://poets.nyq.org/poet/raallen





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