By Lisa Williams
I can grow in shadow as in light.
I can grow in shadow, I promise you.
As in light. Only the dark minds those little
fingers. Only
the dark, considering, reveals.
As in light when the veining
trembles. As in light with its petalled
ends.
A thousand thousand shoulders inside shadow
bear weight.
Like soil the shadow,
shadow for hands. I can grow
in a pool of it. Unlike blaze
where figures sharpen. I handle
and I grow in it
I promise you. As with loss
deciphering to
myself and through. Through.
Lisa Williams has published two books of poems: The Hammered Dulcimer and Woman Reading to the Sea. Her third book of poems, Gazelle in the House, is forthcoming from New Issues Press in March of 2014. She teaches at Centre College.
Issue 1 | Fall 2013
The Traiguén Epidemic
Seven Strategies for Survival (in a small town)
Excerpt from The Weapon in Man
The Devouring Economy of Nature
Here the neighbor screams for Frankie
I’m waiting for you like waiting
Dear No. 2 Pencil, Decomposing in Whiskey
Excerpt from a Novel-in-Progress: La NENA in the TL
Eighth Grade Science: Darwin Et Cetera
The Apple