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Deborah Keenan

  • Dark edges of fish caught in November's freeze / glint like knives through lake's ice.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "The Cabin in Winter," Household Wounds ()
  • Father. I write all my poems so I may bury you more kindly. / Father. I write all my poems to keep you alive.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "The July Twenty-Seventh, Nineteen-Seventy Nine," Household Wounds ()
  • ... there have been so many answers / they have all been right.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "Dialogue," Household Wounds ()
  • ... badness has such energy / it can drive the goodness from your soul / and leave you bad, even if you've practiced / goodness, and have been walking down the road / to grace all your life.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "Be Good," The Only Window That Counts ()
  • The longing to be holy makes us weep, and we trust tears since they are made of water and come from our body, a double blessing.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "Grace," The Only Window That Counts ()
  • My father is dead and I cannot turn him into a white rose, though I try.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "Grace," The Only Window That Counts ()
  • ... my children's faces are private candles i sometimes worship at ...

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • "Good Dreams or Milk," The Only Window That Counts ()
  • My son called to me that God was inside his red fire engine. He wanted to show me. I did move as fast as I could, spilling like water through the kitchen door into a summer day, but God had left by the time I got there. My son smiled, told me I'd missed him by seconds.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • in Christina Baldwin, Life's Companion ()
  • In poetry you can leave out everything but the truth.

    • Deborah Keenan,
    • in Grand Gazette ()

Deborah Keenan, U.S. poet

(1950)