by Gavriel Ross
The generative project forms
Rings, perfect inside
And out. This is where light
These days propose themselves; body,
Dust, breath. Blue body’s bridge and
The endless setting of things spoken or
Seen near the edge and not abstract
Enough couldn’t make me feel better.
Circle the best selection, omit nothing.
the little things
because little things are so
they wish what they wish
like a button, a grain of
sand, a needle’s eye. they
mention less than a
shadow or a speck of dust
i will wait until later. later
is what there is to do.
Run in Circles, Walk in Lines
Silently slipping from holding
The sun, you stay in river
Islands darker than the clear
Talk that opens mountains,
A string of lumbered ivy.
It’s been forever since I thought of startled light.
Through these thousand heavens, you let down long
Nights of jade wine, and I cannot contain
The concrete favor between our broken line.
September becomes an elegy, crow perched
In pine, on the staircase braids of lace.
The world becomes labored. I let myself out.
Delilah Against the World
More than enough for one
We are goldfish
She says a collection
With a strange distance and wants
A commission contained
In prize winning fabric
Her man The first and only
In English Is deliverance
And the first prodigal light
Of a son
Gavriel Ross is poet based in Michigan. He began studying poetry as a teenager and has contributed poems to Ditch Poetry. He was a paramedic for 10 years until he was injured while on duty. He finds that poetry is the most honest and creative way of expressing himself.