Spring 2010, Volume 8

Poetry by John Sibley Williams

November

A turquoise sky
tumbles gray into winter,
a courtyard fountain
surrenders—
tomorrow’s hopes
wear ill-fitting clothes
and dusty manners
of previous frosts.

Words slither
translucent,
both my skin
and its translation
rise,
vapor
from a frozen river
touched
by her sun—
my mouth
unkissed.

 

 

BIO: John has an MA in Writing and resides in Portland, OR, where he frequently performs his poetry, works with HoboEye, and studies Book Publishing at Portland State University. He is presently compiling manuscripts composed from the last two years of traveling and living abroad. Some of his over eighty previous or upcoming publications include: The Evansville Review, Ellipsis, Flint Hills Review, Verdad, Open Letters, Cadillac Cicatrix, Juked, The Journal, Hawaii Review, Barnwood International Poetry, Concho River Review, Paradigm, Red Wheelbarrow, Aries, Other Rooms, Clapboard House, Glass, Miranda, and Raving Dove.