Poetry – Page 80 – Grand Little Things

Two Poems By Scott Darrington

Dry rocks The riverbed is packed with tight, white water, folded over the gray rocks; like the ducks that slip on frozen ponds, the

NEIGHBORS IN SUMMER 1. They’ve put a lap pool in. Now, up at dawn, She parts the narrow waters. Her white head, Seal-slick,

Mixed Bag Beaucoup palpations made valuable in my think tank. Dipsosis needs to be doused: to keep it à cheval. This seems off base

Eastbourne in May We entered Eastbourne, a night-life free zone, where the benches were splintered and the beaches were stone. Residents with walkers

Petroglyphs on the Lewis and Clark Trail Fifty feet above a persistent spring on a cliff too scarped for modern feet to scale, crafty

Figures of Eight For viewers from directly overhead, In shapes of eight a dot appears to move, Gyrating to the left, then

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