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Category Archives: Poetry
The Witch
by Christopher Raley When Saul was lost and Samuel spoke no more to him he asked the witch to call Samuel back to his words, who was not heard in the first place. What was your song … Continue reading
Benicia
by Christopher Raley The sun falls behind the hills, and the wind, the ubiquitous wind, berates their outline. In twilight winter gathers its cold dust and the highway is unforgiving stone. As the dust congeals into night, red … Continue reading
Four Memories
by Christopher Raley i. It began in the meadow. Mom and dad lay underneath, pine tree’s shade against July. I saw beyond this places I played when younger–we played: cousins, brother. I felt the years short in … Continue reading
Covenant
by Christopher Raley The highways are laws and side roads their wisdom, their proverbs and their poems. I was bound moving, sworn roaming, by profession, from house to house, from grief to grief, a counselor with no words. … Continue reading
“Bewildered”
by Christopher Raley I was young in my bed at night, but when I listened . . . I am old on a bench in front of a restaraunt. Steve Phillips was the British transport between the boy, … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged bewildered, boredom, boy, desperate, man, mystery, old, Steve Phillips, young
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Weight
by Christopher Raley The head grows heavier with each unanswered question. The pillow refuses weight. Does the mattress snicker at tremoring nerves from the shift of what the head could not hold? Do the walls laugh at … Continue reading
Older than Memory
by Christopher Raley I climbed above the highway ground down to low gear on dirt road incline. Now high on the ridge, the lake was distant, shrinking and 162 unseen. Disconsolate workers smoked near the old man’s home, … Continue reading
Two Days Before Thanksgiving
by Christopher Raley We were leaving under breaking clouds when I saw it, bright yellow harbinger of my old life, carrier of artifacts of others’ lives rolling down the highway to the next job. Always some poor fool chasing … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged artifacts, old life, orchards, river, sky, Thanksgiving, wept
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It Might be Us
by Christopher Raley It might be us, sagging front porch, shingles sliding down to red dust. It might be us, windows busted, splintered siding, gaps into rooms. It might be us, kid’s graffiti, cop a feel and … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged front porch, graffiti, persevere, rebuild, red dust, shingles, siding, windows
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Tapping the Wall 