December 2017
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
turning into myself
the one when i was
before i was
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
in summer light
in the present tense
on an empty page
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
desert lament
no comfort is there — none
for they are no more
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
reading aloud
my tongue brings to life
a mother tongue
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
beatific vision
through clouds of unknowing
spring cataract
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
bees too fail
to recreate the scent
of grapefruit blossoms
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
sprung rhythms . . .
the poems the maker
of the poet
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a sea view
filled with countless flaws
missing the point