Poem by M. L. WilliamsGrand Bay
“I can know what someone else is thinking, not what I am thinking.” Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, II, xi The graybeard woods, you are thinking, frail along the ditches, the effluent, swamp in its fungal dignities, leaves in muck and a snow of cotton blown from that field yonder lips the steep bank. What I am thinking: Box turtles slip into the black waters; garrulous, the bubbles rise in an amber drawl of light. |
M. L. Williams is author of Other Medicines and co-editor of How Much Earth: The Fresno Poets. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in many journals and anthologies, including most recently Western Humanities Review, Miramar, The Journal of Florida Studies, The Cortland Review, Stone, River, Sky, and Clash by Night. He teaches creative writing and contemporary literature at Valdosta State University.
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