Tuesday, 5 May 2015

1 Poem by Stacey Margaret Jones

Pale

The white bark dissolves
in fog. Osmosis almost
takes the watchful eyes
off trees into thicket
air. The fall-leaf confetti
floats treetops above
the bushtops, on tall
pale pickets over the forest
floor. Frost would bend

And sway here, flirting
with but not finding
danger. Boys!
Discovering peril
in the peaceful, pale
lines of the quietest copse.
Trees bunch
together
like the Burghers of Calais,
mimicking ghostly grove
committees in a dense
plant paradise.


Bionote

Stacey Margaret Jones lives in Conway, Arkansas. She is in her third and final year of the Arkansas Writers MFA Program at the University of Central Arkansas and has earned her master’s degree from Syracuse University and her bachelor’s degree from Northern State University in Aberdeen, South Dakota. She writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction and is a columnist for Sporting Life Arkansas as well working as an independent market research consultant. Her poetry has been published in Five Poems, Shelterbelt, North Coast Review, Slant, Ariel and Agave, and her short fiction has appeared in Bewildering Stories and Unbraiding the Short Story (an anthology).

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