Deborah Fass – Two New Poems




Where last night I walked alone,

past the field to the parking lot –


the silent field, at the end

of the driest winter on record –


tonight, in this light rain,

a frog’s


loud, persistent, guttural:

urge, urge, urge.






After a day of catching up

on families and dreams and jobs,

we say goodbye


on the windy porch,

next to muddy shoes,


a plastic shopping bag,

upright and open,

wind tugging the flapping handles,


grounded by its load

of lemons, handfuls of yellow


fruit. Here, you say,

the tree gave much this year.





Deborah Fass was born and raised in Southern California, moved to Japan with a Japanese Ministry of Education Research Fellowship, and now lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she teaches English as a Second Language. Deborah has a Master of Arts degree and is currently a Master of Fine Arts candidate. Deborah’s work has appeared in literary journals including New Directions and Hummingbird.

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