Tag Archives: Shawn Fawson

CPR Best of Volume 16 Now Available

CPR Volume 16 Front CoverAfter more than a week of stuffing envelopes, the hard-copy “Best of Volume 16” Cider Press Review is on its way to contributors, subscribers, and former Book Award contest entrants.

The “Best of” issue features poems by Rebecca Baggett, Carol Berg, Jennifer Jackson Berry, Maggie Blake, Ace Boggess, John Bradley, Christine Butterworth-McDermott, Sharon Chmielarz, Lisa J. Cihlar, Joan Colby, Michael Collins, Gemma Cooper-Novack, Jimmie Cumbie, Carol V. Davis, Paul Dickey, Iris Jamahl Dunkle, Carol Ellis, Sarah Estes, David Eye, Evelyn Clark Farbman, Shawn Fawson, Janice Greenwood, David Hathwell, Gary Hawkins, Sara Henning, Brian Patrick Heston, Louisa Howerow, Ann Hudson, Amie Keddy, Heather Lang, Susanna Lang, Mercedes Lawry, Bernadette McBride, Amy Meckler, Colleen Michaels, Nancy Carol Moody, Carolyn Moore, Mary Moore, Susannah Nevison, Amy Newday, Autumn Newman, Sharon Olson, Mary Elizabeth Parker, Lynn Pedersen, Kevin Phan, Katherine Rauk, Geri Rosenzweig, Michael G. Smith, Heather Sommer, Sarah Sousa, Joannie Stangeland, Kelly Terwilliger, Lisken Van Pelt Dus, Ryan Vine, Donna Vorreyer, Chelsea Wagenaar, Mark Wagenaar, Marq Wilson, Laura Madeline Wiseman, Anne Harding Woodworth, Matthew Zingg. Book reviews by Ken Hada and Gary Leising.

To order your own or extra copies, please visit the CPR Bookstore.

Shaving Bowl with Plovers, Reeds, and Waves
by Shawn Fawson

On the blue rim of porcelain
plovers run up and back
to the water’s edge, the same path
to flee as to return,
Ryokan would say.
All he needed to know of irony,
he knew: what is coveted will be broken
by the body––an oyster’s craw, an infinite
spiral of lemon rind, and here,
a loose strand of hair wrapped around
the blue underglaze, spring snow

melting into rain, a koan of wind filling
the reeds with absence. Depth fools the eyes.
Nest of plovers, here are my geta,
you may have them. I would follow you
out from here, but your wings are cut off
by the slightest crack. Better to let you shoal
with the earth’s cold sea, to leave you
to the tide’s graveled arms. Let you stand
on the blue rim with legs made of water.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 16, Issue 2.

Shawn Fawson resides with her family in Denver, Colorado. Her book Giving Way was published by The Bitter Oleander Press in 2010 and won the Utah Book Award for Poetry in 2011. Her work has appeared in Natural Bridge, Vallum, and Mid-American Review, among others.

See all items about Shawn Fawson

Visit Shawn Fawson’s contributors page.

Whatever Light Happens to Fall
by Shawn Fawson

“While you are acting conscientiously and
sincerely wishing and trying to learn the truth
you cannot be wrong.”
—Emma Darwin, to Charles

On the hour she divided the teas and repeated
his words: pursue, enfold, likeness. In this way
she felt organized. Before he left for Bahia
the horses bent low to the dark water. He found
a dressmaker’s button: round moon, shaken
by the maple. A trickle, then the field’s edge
broke the water-line, stunning the body.

It was a quiet joy when he stole her boat
and brought her over. They watched the sudden
verge of the horizon shatter and rush, burst away
cloud-thin silvers and polished elms. They took
the bark sweet as cider at their throats. Nothing
like the taste of waking when it’s dark. The pattern
inside each leaf already bleeding to its frail borders.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 15, Issue 4.

Shawn Fawson resides with her family in Denver, Colorado. Her book Giving Way was published by The Bitter Oleander Press in 2010 and won the Utah Book Award for Poetry in 2011. Her work has appeared in Natural Bridge, Vallum, and Mid-American Review, among others.

See all items about Shawn Fawson

Visit Shawn Fawson’s contributors page.