A Clothesline In Winter
John Sibley Williams The wooden fenceposts on both sides bow to weather and halfway between earth and sky our line slackens, brushing the coattails of one neglected cloth body against a canvas of white. What we’ve pinned to cloud hoping to dry in time clings to skin-- grows harder than bone. What is it we wear when there is nothing left but rigid names for impossible unsullied things? From a frosted window, we are dreaming a taught connected thread and figures for the wind to make dance. |
About the author:
John Sibley Williams is the author of eight collections, most recently Controlled Hallucinations (FutureCycle Press, 2013). Four-time Pushcart nominee, he is the winner of the HEART Poetry Award and has been a finalist for the Rumi, Best of the Net, and The Pinch Poetry Prizes. John serves as editor of The Inflectionist Review and Board Member of the Friends of William Stafford. A few previous publishing credits include: American Literary Review, Third Coast, Nimrod International Journal, Rio Grande Review, Inkwell, Cider Press Review, Bryant Literary Review, Cream City Review, RHINO, and various anthologies. He lives in Portland, Oregon. |