By Jimmy Phillips
A dream of you
comes silent:
a silk-wound
apparition with
an angel instead
of a voice,
floating toward
the sound of
gilded iron
pinged by
a fingernail.
You come as silent
as someone with
secrets instead
of words, flowers
for thoughts, blooming
in vacuumed space
away from touches:
a shadowed man
against a yellowed
sky, hoping for
a peace, a whisper,
advice against
loneliness;
It's born
from us;
it fills
spaces we
intend for
ourselves.
Jimmy Phillips
I'm a second year graduate student at Angelo State University in Texas
completing a Creative Thesis in poetry. I've recently been selected to
serve as Editor for ASU's Oasis Literary Magazine for the 2001-2 school
year. Earlier this year, I was selected to read at The Writer's Conference
in Honor of Elmer Kelton held in San Angelo.
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