Sunday, April 15, 2012
a poem by jerome murphy
When heart’s fire is catching some
combustible brush, what sudden
fuss of rain is so ready, dousing flame
in a squall whose seaborne gust
exaggerates the fan of the butterfly wing,
having already wrestled off coast
with a storm from the lash
of some far lover’s eye,
wet with joy, in that country
where we’d overlook anything.
Jerome Ellison Murphy
is a New York-based freelance writer, and holds an MFA in Creative Writing from NYU. His work is featured on the ceiling as you lie awake at 3 a.m.
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April 18, 2012 at 10:53 AM
You write beautifully. Always a pleasure to read your work!
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