Search

Word Fountain

The Literary Magazine of the Osterhout Free Library

Tag

poet

Marilyn Pocius Shelton, Spring•Summer 2017

Anthracite
A Trilogy
Marilyn Pocius Shelton

1.

I hoist my hems for the devilish descent
Down where no bone reaches save my pen

I chisel by inches with the image of a pick
Picture of an axe, auger seen in no one’s eyes
But mine

Grandpa, when you lay down in a chink
Of coal, did you see your mother’s eyes
Rimmed with tears as she waved good bye
Rooted in her Lithuanian soil?

2.

Settling Accounts

After you pay for your carbide Continue reading “Marilyn Pocius Shelton, Spring•Summer 2017”

Harold Jenkins, Spring•Summer 2017

Double Dig
Harold Jenkins

Break the surface with the pitchfork
shave off the sod with the spade
Five feet wide, fifteen feet long

Dig out the first row
one foot down, one foot long
put it in the wheelbarrow

Add compost to the trench
loosen the soil with the fork
try not to think about you

Dig out the second row
toss it Continue reading “Harold Jenkins, Spring•Summer 2017”

Jan Chronister, Spring•Summer 2017

Hunting Season
Jan Chronister

An orange fist sticks out of a bureau drawer
catches my eye, a square of Mother’s black and many-colored
afghan we brought back from Florida last winter
along with quilts, costume jewelry and ceramics—
politely accepted, stored away in darkness, forgotten.

Glow of neon yarn on November morning
reminds me Ruby will never
crochet or stitch again
dress for church
paint another plate.

The hunter will find Continue reading “Jan Chronister, Spring•Summer 2017”

Sarah Bigham, Spring•Summer 2017

Of Lifeless Equivalencies
Sarah Bigham

The first was made
without sugar,

an error of haste or
stress or

care.

Instead, a slab entombed in thinly
ridged metal,

anemic cardboard, and
impenetrable plastic:

embalmed

for a celebration not
my own.

I do not want Continue reading “Sarah Bigham, Spring•Summer 2017”

Micah Bauman, Spring•Summer 2017

A Shorting
Micah James Bauman

I have a shorting
in my heart
not a longing as some say

I have been living
a tiny thin truth
and by no shrink
of the imagination
can I explain it Continue reading “Micah Bauman, Spring•Summer 2017”

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑