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Daniel Halpern


The Dance

No one's dancing here tonight. Wouldn't you know it. The cat in profile smiles at the light, the rain is just a little sound on the metal of the roof—out of season. The cat doesn't dance and I wouldn't watch if she did, Her little soul though dance [...]

Sunday Avenue

It's Sunday again, but there will be no calls home, no walks east in Manhattan to the docks, or to the bakeries south of Houston Street. Only muted sun off the Avenue and wilted endive for a snack and Riesling from Oregon. Geographical, restrained, [...]

Night Scene

for Bill The train passes through the night, through tunnels like the night, through open fields, at night. The elemental racket of the rails through the wine country of Umbria keeps the two of us alert but saying nothing, the wind whistling the sec [...]