by John Sibley Williams

John Sibley Williams

I’m handed a disheveled bouquet
as gypsy as its collector,
stalks nearly bare and browned by a sun
preferring everything adopt that sand-fleshed
Turkish tan, everything be of sand.

One bouquet takes the place of success, happiness.
The one given me replaces love.
The courtyard faucets splash in bird-play.
Going and coming back they draw their curves,
glowing red in the cold
and now quietly mumbling white.

I carry the flowers out to the canal.

Everywhere something in a foreign tongue
is sold, recycled, sold,
purchased with differing currency
then left on café tables and balustrades.

Perhaps it is such half-objects
fully illuminated by summer
that hold together like a mouth
the hard sea, harder earth,
and what falls from our hands
along the way.

The Shine Journal

John Sibley Williams's picture

John Sibley Williams is the author of six chapbooks, winner of the HEART Poetry Award, and finalist for the Pushcart and Rumi Poetry Prizes. He has served as Acquisitions Manager of Ooligan Press and Publicist for Three Muses Press and holds an MFA in Creative Writing and MA in Book Publishing. Some of his over 200 previous or upcoming publications include: The Evansville Review, RHINO, Rosebud, Ellipsis, Flint Hills Review, and Poetry Quarterly.

Last updated September 08, 2011