The concentric silences of phantom
isolation splash unscented across
caked ice—expanse framed by violent but
muted thundering of the congealed. Edge
of weather razors faces, encircles
eyelids, and its grimace arcs like light’s blue
sigh. Still, one’s stitched tongue bawls outward in a
brawling prayer, in bottled shouts to the wind,
and names all the luxury gathered here.
Here, one’s peace fronts one’s own ferocity.
D. R. James’s latest of ten collections are Mobius Trip and Flip Requiem (Dos Madres Press, 2021, 2020); his online micro-chapbook All Her Jazz is free, fun, and printable-for-folding at Origami Poems Project; and individual poems have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and journals. He lives in the woods near Saugatuck, Michigan.