Stephen Fuller *** Poetry, Essays

Posts by Stephen

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…

Though…

Though I am picking the winter season’s horse shitAnd putting it in the green wheelbarrowEverything depends on this moment. I don’t want to forget it, the…

This wind

This wind would take me a fraction of way backTo Kansas. A place maybe I’d never be butFor what it represents. You know, home, home. (No)Place](.)[Like{It.}Reality:…

Should

Should I collect each patron and spatter their wordsSeeming to tale the tells of individuals Walking and sitting and crowding the spaceWe vacated past. A year…