Elegy for an Unused Storm Cellar
by John Sibley Williams

I can’t see the whole ocean from here. Just a bird- broken bay, backlit oyster shacks piled high in hollow shells, incomplete haloes reflecting off polished masts. Windless, their sails tied down like domesticated dogs to backyard trees. A born wildness deferred. Something I want desperately to call my own: what is the word for … Continue reading Elegy for an Unused Storm Cellar
by John Sibley Williams

Spectacle
by John Sibley Williams

Why in their dancing for us circus elephants don’t pull the canvas sky down each night and trample our kids into soft little star-stains in bare earth, I’ll never know. And is there anything so damaged as a broken horse left to ride itself? Feather-plume, velvet saddle, so beautifully lost without a half-naked woman kicking … Continue reading Spectacle
by John Sibley Williams