January Ars Poetica
(for L.L. Knowlton)
Awake, more knotted dreams in my hands.
It stays dark past dawn. Where have you gone?
With what spoken bone will you return?
Now I see: dust tossed in a lake became voice.
Julia Caroline Knowlton is Professor of French at Agnes Scott College in Atlanta, where she has taught for twenty-five years. She has a PhD in French Literature from UNC-Chapel Hill and an MFA in Poetry from Antioch University. The author of four books, she was named a Georgia Author of the Year in 2018. She is the recipient of an Academy of American Poets College Prize and a Pushcart nominee. Her work has recently appeared in literary journals such as Boston Literary Magazine and Raw Art Review. You can find her on Facebook.
The Way I Miss You
In daytime when light plays over us
even from this all-gray winter sky,
something else is dancing.
It’s always there, the hidden thing
that makes everything possible.
This is how I miss you.
It isn’t that the moon
slips inside a sleeve of night
and vanishes so that anything I see
is a partial thing defined by darkness.
The universe itself that transmits light
hides in the gravity of darkness.
I don’t miss the light.
I miss the shadow
that was our shadow.
The Sea Is A Grief
Listen to the old accordion
making sad music
with bones and pebbles,
like hidden predators.
The sea grieves for its secrets,
which are those of a small boy
watching the waves rise and fall
from a pier where a horse dives
with a star-spangled rider
into the foamy water
and emerges in front of the boy’s own eyes
still carrying the woman in the wet shining cap
who leads it back to plunge again
from the high pier into the sea.
Stan Sanvel Rubin has poems recently in 2 River, Sheila-na-gig and Aji and has been previously published in Agni, Georgia Review, Poetry Northwest, One and others. His four full collections include There. Here (Lost Horse Press) and Hidden Sequel (Barrow Street Book Prize). He lives on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington. He writes essay reviews of poetry for Water-Stone Review.
In the dishwasher,
nothing but spoons.
Donna Hilbert’s latest book is Gravity: New & Selected Poems, Tebot Bach, 2018. She is a monthly contributing writer to the on-line journal, Verse-Virtual. She is eager to resume leading in-person workshops and hugging her friends. Learn more at http://www.donnahilbert.com