Wallace Stevens

by Cam M. Roberts

I left too long a while
and lost the uplifting flow
to more celestial realms

unheralded northwest of leaden bells
alabaster feathers fall as ashes from on high
and angels sojourn no more in this stormy land

voices clash echoing from nether reaches
then cry never to dream again
writes the dead man’s hand.


© CMR, 2018



by Cam M. Roberts


I am my dead father
I am my unborn son
I am the one burning


quietly in the evenings
sharing the same story
of humble ghosts


walking on
in solemn silence
my hand in my hand


each to his world
our sunken worlds
tethered by shadows


holding us in my arms
without tenderness
but tireless and firm


and sleep now
as under the moon
we are together bound



© CMR, 2018