Is a senior at Concord College in West Virginia. A loving
fiancée and oversized Pez collection play important
roles in his days. His first chapbook of poetry, The Arche
of Existentialism, is available through Little Poems Press.
Featured poet in the September 2003 issue of SaucyVox, his
poetry has appeared in Verse Libre Quarterly, Carnelian, The
Journal, Poindexter, Poems Niederngasse, and others.
Autumn in the stone forest means fresh gravel,
limestone crumbling around rugged trunks,
each piece a colorless leaf that tumbles
into bouquets of dead flowers.
Frost sows bone dust into broken oak lids.
When the sun returns, granite crosses will grow
coats of moss and children will see
mother’s green eyes in engravings of Christ.
Patient as Moses, a weathered stump
waits in tall grass for someone to again etch
life into its surface, a signature not from loved ones
but from those once loved.
I rolled down the window, invited fog,
cold and transparent, into the car –
my Holy Ghost. I sought revelation,
beyond his odor of wet bark and stories
of dewdrops splashing in cupped leaves.
holy is the place where light
never shines and mist bleeds
the pale skin of angels.
Drive toward the storm clouds
he said, for heaven despises the sun.
Copyright © 2004 Jason Fraley