by Ryan Bayless
Things collide—
rocks with trees,
an old bedspring with bones.
Sometimes a lantern
mingles with a wheel,
or a bird’s nest,
or a miner’s cup
becomes tangled in the clothes line
around branches and boards
on the sunny side of the bank
where wildflowers grow
tall as men.
 |
Ryan Bayless lives in Austin, Texas, and teaches writing and fine arts courses at Texas State University and Texas A&M-Central Texas. His work has recently appeared in Alba and Front Porch. |
WILLOWS WEPT REVIEW 