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By Daniel Haskin

Rain Flowers

Short Form Poetry and Ekphrasis

“Rain Flowers” is a new work by author Daniel Haskin. In this collection of new poems Haskin writes about death, loss and longing, art and creation, life during a pandemic, rediscovery, and love in the deepest sense.

From the Book


When was the last time I died.
Was it January when it rained
and held out for snow, but cried
its black and grey stain away?
How do I walk across the field
with my Lazarine footsteps?
Now that we are snowed in
I find it hard to breathe
or move my feet sideways,
sidestepping past crows
that wait for my footfall to begin.
When was the last time I died,
beneath the cold of February,
leaving notches in my cane
like the rings of trees.


Let’s float
like a flightless feral cat,
with only holy words like
jasmine, saffron, forgiveness,
to ease our suffering.
We will make time
for lost time.
We are like
a shifting wind.
when words are stolen
from the tip of our tongues,
to the silky passage
of our camphored throats.
All the pain,
of all of this life,
will be pulled away,
by time and melody.

A Yellow Moon on a Valium Sea

I could write you letters
from my yellow broken rib
but would I be better off dead.
Look at my hands as they atrophy,
how they feel like smoke.
My pen slips through them.
Poems cannot flex their legs
as younger limbs of wood.
These fingers curl like feathers
and spill out their fountain pens,
staining my spit with words.
See how my tongue drowns.

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