Filed among “The Unreal” at Quail Bell Magazine:
I love how Quail Bell always chooses an image that’s totally different from what the author might pick. It lets the reader (and the author) view the piece a little differently.
The picture above is mine, chosen (among other reasons) for its location, which is very near the spot where I wrote the poem.
Red and cream rock
crumbles in my hand. It asks me:
stone or sand?
but it doesn’t demand.
the boundaries of this world.
Still we seek to speak
that are more