BY P. J. WILLIAMS
Wet lace-light on the window
retracts into morning as if
a crumpling prayer: Closer yet
I approach you, / What thought you have
of me now, / I had as much of you –
A rocking chair pendulums,
soaked, in the soft breeze.
However sure I was – am gone,
now hum low a low hymn, lift breath
from the loam, fill it with speech.
Let your own lilting break
the horses that saddle the rain.
P.J. Williams was born and raised in North Carolina. His poems appear or are forthcoming in The Cincinnati Review, DIAGRAM, Ninth Letter, Salt Hill, The Pinch, and others. He is co-founder and lead editor of Utter, an online journal of writing and art, and co-editor of the forthcoming anthology It Was Written: Poetry Inspired by Hip-Hop (Minor Arcana Press). He also serves as a poetry editor for Slash Pine Press.
Next (Emily Mohn-Slate, "So Easy") >
< Previous (Mariel Alonzo, "The Ocean Scavenger")