by Mary Hamrick
Every time I open up,
I climb a thousand feet.
Every time I'm new, enlightened,
I burn a thousand eyes.
I know the voice of different, of change;
it is the sly giant of this particular day.
Fist over heart,
my spine is no longer drunken quiet.
Mary Hamrick was born in New York and moved to Florida when she was a young girl. Her writing often reflects the contrast between her Northern and Southern upbringing. Current and forthcoming publications include About.com, Arabesques Press, Architecture Ink, Cezanne’s Carrot, Howling Dog Press (OMEGA 6), League of Laboring Poets, Mad Hatters' Review, On the Page Magazine, Pemmican, Poetry Repair Shop, Poems Niederngasse, Potomac Review, Presence, Scholars and Rogues, The Binnacle, The Subway Chronicles and others.
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