by John Sibley Williams
There are forgotten, breathless words I swore forever to remember.
There are closed doors beside, behind, the ones that I have opened.
There are books I love yet still have never read.
There are poems I’ve never written and others I have erased.
Like memories, they are the same.
There is a nearby window from which I’ve never jumped.
The light has played into shadow within this deep room
while the sun fattened its calves for poetry’s slaughter.
There is a heart I never surrendered. There are hearts
for which I endlessly searched, amongst the city midnight,
the country dawn. Like language, they are one.
There is a death that never hounded me and another
sleeping in my skin. Until they are one
I am a tree and its apple, neither
feeling the wind nor tasting the nectar.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
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