Friday 5 May 2023

2 Poems by James Croal Jackson

The Bird an Echo

Above me, wing soundwaves visible, a flapping
back to easier days, a communal grass I could
not know I was missing, but did. Voices in my head
clamor for them, always, from windows in the bathroom,
the glowing lights’ buzz, this temporary body, not simply
the hands washed, nor the heart, the mouth, the tongue,
each breath, each thrill, each paper airplane landing on
its own brown rectangle of nothing.


On Earth, We Travel a Thousand Miles Every Hour
For David and Anna

Rain is never insurmountable,
and the sun never gets old,

though we plan to, together,
to grow with green things

sprouting at our feet. We
watch new trees become

wise while the landscape
shifts, as it must, and though

Earth spins briskly– almost
beyond what we can fathom–

it has order, being as small
and in love as we are.

We stand on our plot
of land, firm though

flung through time and
space, the universe we

made forever expanding.


Bionote

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. He has three chapbooks: Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022), Our Past Leaves (Kelsay Books, 2021), and The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights, 2017). He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, PA. (jamescroaljackson.com)


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