The moon is leaving too soon. A bell of a glistening bugle, it swirls silvery notes through half-closed blinds across the early-morning room, composing a refracted lyric next to the antique mirror and a picture of a child playing near… Read More ›
Selection: 2019
Emergency Procedure
If I lived on the Blue Ridge, I could be healthy, work as a craftsman, build a log cabin, forget this complacent life. If I moved to the Outer Banks, I could eat better, fish off a wooden pier… Read More ›
Resurrection: Come, Ed Roach, Walk Tall Tonight
The notice reads as if Ed Roach died yesterday— the family asking everyone to celebrate the life of their 24-year-old son. Oh, plow the red clay, yellowed leaf, A black man in the county back in 1920, Ed… Read More ›
Son and Moon
Ghost in the afternoon, the moon dangles, a pocked trophy my boy pretends to drive. He dreams of monster trucks and something cool to blow up come Fourth of July. At light, the moon snatches at wild grass, lost… Read More ›
At the Feeder
The cardinal watches me through the kitchen window, reddish-brown breast, orange tuft and beak, hooded-eyes fathoms deep. She stares into the glass, begging answers to my question: Where, sweet bird, is your handsome life-mate of last summer? Now,… Read More ›
jonathan giles 