My poems “Looking through the Big End of the Telescope,” “Innocence,” “Camp of Dreams,” and “Unfinished Business” appeared in the Summer 2009 issue of Concise Delight, a biannual print magazine dedicated to publishing the very best of very short verse. Concise Delight is print-only: here’s how to get your own copy.
Looking Through the Big End of the Telescope
Time’s expanse is reversed in the mind:
Years are framed in snapshots and windows.
Entire summers hang on rows of clotheslines.
Weeks and months are like fields of clover,
or countless needles on boughs of pine.
While the present is a blur of collapsing moments,
the endless shaft of a shrinking mine.
White clouds of summer,
pristine and rising,
know nothing more of the fall
just behind them
than young girls swinging alone in the park
tossing their hair toward the hard soil below,
as blue dresses billow and open legs greet
the cooling breeze that lifts them
aloft in their lark.
Camp of Dreams
Dreams at dawn fade like voices in the woods
from a gathering of hunters at the end of their trail.
There, they huddle in the mist
to trade one last tale of stalking game—
stitching vapor into legends as full of stuffing
as animal heads mounted in a dusty den.
Then as the coals of their fire hiss and the nest of ashes dies,
the hunters recede into a glen near the bog of the mind,
just before one’s eyes open wide.
Again we awake unchanged and tired
from the night’s heavy clench.
We fought each other less to win
than to find out if we could last.
Our hearts trade sighs, and our voices
are slacken with hesitations and mumblings.
Our hopes have become as inert as sand
at the bottom of an hourglass.