Sometimes I come across as artifact, a found blues, biography of bone washed up into a whisper waiting. A stepping-stone wobbling, a root fastened to a fist, and tongues salvaged trapped in amber sold as prayer beads. Or, a vicious grip of longing stuck to a doorknob. Garrett Phelan is the author of one poetry […]
Tag Archives: Garrett Phelan
Ossuary by Garrett Phelan
like bamboo in wind. Wings of cicada. Baseball bats in a bag. Stones. Fingered rosary beads. Marbles in my pocket. All the soreness of crow call or of blood stopping up the wound. My mother’s eyes. All the gray in granite. Shoebox tissues. Pens in a book bag. And a branch scratches the window. Fingernails […]