Two Poems by William R Stoddart

The Shortest of Stories

On summer days long ago I walked
on creosote-impregnated roads that bled
sticky tar like ribbons of black licorice,
ran through a rolling, cool green cemetery,

over distended bellies of dry clay,
past rotting flowers,
under fast, dark clouds
birthing hissing silken shrouds.

I danced on the tense skin of water until
the sun appeared and I looked for a rainbow,
but there was just the humid slowness of summer,
and I welcomed the slowness of it.

Then years through the hourglass vein
in sclerotic years I navigate
a shortened course, dead reckoned
to this seemingly never-ending night,

like the sonnet sequence of immutable
born-died stones, I read the shortest of stories,
tiling infinite layers of earthy reflection
into the awaiting, yawning hole.


Unchristened Child

From catechism to church
my second grade class was led,

fire drill double file sheep
to the narthex as a small

white casket was wheeled past us.
Slow motion, silence, I see

figures on the side of the box:
kneeling angels, folded hands,

bowed heads, a lamb
in the middle lying down,

low relief cherubs. We were
led into the nave for the service.

I daydream the unchristened child
clutches a rosary with satin

first communion gloves,
anywhere but heaven or hell,

a snap of fingers,
I awake to the rattle of beads.

 

William R. Stoddart is a poet and short fiction writer who lives in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA. His work has appeared in Neologism Poetry Journal, Adirondack Review, Ruminate Magazine, Pedestal Magazine, Every Day Fiction and other publications.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.