Martin Cohen was born in the South Bronx somewhere on Simpson Street, went to a Yeshiva on East Broadway and Canal Street, and then lived in the South of Brooklyn, the South of Long Island, The Southern Tier of Upstate New York, The South of Manhattan, and finally South Jersey in Egg Harbor.
View all posts by martin gottlieb cohen
7 thoughts on “”
thorns stand erect–
protecting their
ruby red treasures
thorns stand erect–
protecting their
ruby red treasures
morning rain
my grandson fingerpaints
his father’s face
persimmon tree
loaded with fruit
… birds’ winter meals
White dew –
one drop
on each thorn
Buson
–
soft breeze rattles umbrella leaves –
tiny wasp ponders me
by bob
–
the canopy
from the ground
leaves dancing with lights
After the tempest,
all around the stock-still village
upon the wing swalows
dew
deposited during the night —
on my doorstep, a yellow rose
–