Two poems




by Michael E. Williams

Wasp

hydrangeas in a ball mason jar
a vine wreath encircling them
on a table made of weathered wood
the smell of sausage frying in a black skillet
sneaks through the open kitchen door
the wasp I failed to kill creeps back
and forth along the table’s edge
he and I are cautious of each other now
we who are partners in hunger and death 


On Center Hill

behind the scrim
of mist this
morning
the lake disappears
past the trees
past the porch
past the door

soon I will gather
kindling for tonight’s
fire whose 
light will
rival the fiery stars
rival the sun
that burns away
the scrim of
morning

beneath the porch
carved in relief
on a single log
an owl keeps watch
keeps her own counsel
keeps her wisdom
to herself

MICHAEL E. WILLIAMS was born in Kentucky and grew up in Tennessee. His poems have appeared inSouthern Poetry Review, Southern Humanities Review, Cold Mountain Review, The Anglican Theological Review, and a number of other journals. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee.

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Tell us what you think.

 

Donate

Passionately Ran, Compassionately Fed.

Follow by Email

About

Belle Rêve Literary Journal is a southern literary experience. Our mission is to capture everything that makes the South and its residents unique through the best contemporary literature we can find. We publish new works weekly.