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U-2
by Christopher Raley As though submerged, I saw. And it floated above me, a black cross unsure of its vertical axis. Later, uban light through dirty windows, it roars over highway like an omen, then is silent as … Continue reading
aging woman crosses the street
by Christopher Raley It startled me. I can tell you that much. Quiet street ends at busy one–four lanes. I turn right onto it. Van at left turns right off of it. Like the audience of a badly timed … 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
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Tagged artifacts, old life, orchards, river, sky, Thanksgiving, wept
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Reckoning
by Christopher Raley There’s no reckoning these sand stone formations emerging out of the forest of scrawny oaks tough and lean from clinging to hard won soil. The boy ahead of the old man is running to dangerous … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged boy, erosion, forest, formation, foundation, hope, ninja, oaks, old man, sand stone, security, vertical stone, wind
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The X-Ray Room
by Christopher Raley Beyond collapsing door which is always open like a squeezed accordion are pictures they’ve taken. Catalogued manila folders by numbered colored labels face the wall of concrete cinder blocks glossy white. Among these are … Continue reading
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A Poem for my Dog
by Christopher Raley Every night I stand in the hall and softly whistle to my dog. She wakens in the living room, regards me with concern and rises knowing. She walks quickly her collar jingling and lays her regard … Continue reading
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Voices
by Christopher Raley I heard for the first time voices in my head speaking not from me or to me. I was in the quiet no man’s land between awake and sleep unable to get completely to either side, … Continue reading
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My Lamb
by Christopher Raley I am owned by a man who gave me a lamb. The lamb lived in my yard and slept on my grass. He played with my dogs and ate my lavender bush. One day the man … Continue reading
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Cracks in the Church Parking Lot
by Christopher Raley The cracks will not leave my mind— the crooked cracks jaggedly traveling with the authority of national borders, cracks that catch the wind’s ancient chaff. It gathers, it solidifies like a whisper into a kind … Continue reading
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Tapping the Wall 