Stephen Fuller *** Poetry, Essays

The Fire Wanted

Son, climb that mountain again to hear what you missed. At the summit, close your eyes this time and feel the wind As it swirls around…

Now that Light

Has moved to shine on others’ hemispheres I look into nightSeeing the ghosts that sneak a lookAt me from behind treesLike a radiant glow you cannot…

Window‘s Open

Transitional seasonsAre thoseThe windows can be left openTo let air in,The cool enough, warm enough air,Air that carries the sounds of night:Crickets, croaks, coons and coyotes.Coyotes:…

Wondering

Wondering On my knees, my heart releases The weight holding under every beat Like a man grasping for breath In an ocean miles from land, His…

When

The last thread of the braid snaps,Or maybe one or two before the lastThis fact doesn’t matter, Trivial it might beFor what rememberedNot matching what notMeans…