
Dear Suburb
by David Roderick
I’m not interested in sadness,
just a yard as elder earth,
a library of sunflowers
battered by the night’s rain.
When sliced wide, halved at dawn,
I can see how you exist,
O satellite town, your bright possibility
born again in drywall
and the diary with the trick lock.
Read the entire poem here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=238286
Find out more about the MFA Writing Program at Greensboro here:
http://mfagreensboro.org


Slantwise by Betty Adcock 

