{"id":1832,"date":"2012-10-22T15:48:26","date_gmt":"2012-10-22T15:48:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1832"},"modified":"2012-10-22T15:48:26","modified_gmt":"2012-10-22T15:48:26","slug":"nicole-taylor-1012","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/nicole-taylor-1012\/","title":{"rendered":"Nicole Taylor, 10\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

Looking In, Out, or Over<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong>
\nWe waited. The
\nsmall pickup truck
\nstopped so
\nsuddenly.<\/p>\n

The boy turned and
\nsmiled. Then he
\nroared exposing
\nhis sharp incisors
\nand a mysterious smile.<\/p>\n

I turned away and
\nin closer to watch.
\nThen started
\nplaying this game,
\nthis roaring lion game.<\/p>\n

His father turned to him
\nand then to me. The father
\ngave me a
\nsmile and a nod.
\nI thought these actions seemed so
\napproving and mysterious.<\/p>\n

The game resumed
\nwhile he
\nsat still
\nwaiting,
\nwatching.<\/p>\n

Traffic passed.
\nThe boy
\nhappily smiled and played. Then
\nthe light turned and I
\nleft the scene.<\/p>\n

Looking In, Out, or Over II<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong>
\nTraffic passed
\nthis noisy
\nconcrete safari. Motorcycles roared like
\nlions and utility vehicles and trucks
\ncraned over
\nconvertibles.
\nThe boy turned,
\nsmiled, roared and exposed
\nhis sharp incisors
\nand a mysterious smile.
\nThen he started
\nplaying this game,
\nthis roaring lion game.
\nHis father turned to him
\nand then to me.
\nThe father
\ngave me a
\nsmile and a nod.
\nTraffic passed.
\nThe boy
\nhappily smiled
\nand played.<\/p>\n

Then the light turned green
\nand they left the scene.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Nicole Taylor lives in Eugene, Oregon and currently has no MFA’s but many hopeful projects, a varieties of styles and a wide variety of subjects. She is an artist, a hiker, a poetry note taker, a sketcher, a volunteer and a dancer, formerly in Salem’s DanceAbility. Her poems have appeared in BareBack Journal – an online Canadian journal, Boneshaker: A Bicycling Almanac with some bicycling and nature poems, Camel Saloon; Cirque; Denali Journal of Lane Community College, recently Eugene’s 150th Birthday Poetry Collection Anthology, Four and Twenty Journal; Gloom Cupboard; Just Another Art Movement Journal – New Zealand, KenAgain; Kerouac’s Dog; Miller’s Pond, Outlaw Poetry Network; Pemmican; Sketchbook, Snow Monkey; Tiger’s Eye, Watercourse Journal, Yes (an anthology of the Silverton Poetry Association) and others. She has won bookstore gift certificates, workshop scholarships, a small online contest, and respect from many Oregon poets. She blogs at facebook.com\/ntaylortoo , apoetessanthology.blogspot.com\/, and at www.oregonpoeticvoices.org\/poet\/312, a collection of Oregon poets with written and audio poetry available online through Lewis & Clark College in Portland.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Looking In, Out, or Over We waited. The small pickup truck stopped so suddenly. The boy turned and smiled. Then he roared exposing his sharp incisors and a mysterious smile. I turned away and in closer to watch. Then started playing this game, this roaring lion game. His father turned to him and then to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1832","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nNicole Taylor, 10\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/nicole-taylor-1012\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Nicole Taylor, 10\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Looking In, Out, or Over We waited. The small pickup truck stopped so suddenly. The boy turned and smiled. 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