Grace

metal fence

around an empty

Russian field–

derelict wind

from under

ink-blotted sky.

you walk through

with yellow

puffer jacket

among the rusting

alloys. is it youth

sitting in the bathtub

of your childhood,

candles on mantlepieces

burning all around?

fish soup steams

from the kitchen,

carried to the table

in a porcelain pot

from the white

refrigerator stained

with rusted sunflowers.

you’d rather run

into the cold

to your camper

where you have

heat, where?– outside

the rain-speckled

windows– the resting

lake, and the tiny

house above it.

About the Author

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023). Recent poems are in Red Tree Review, Alabama Literary Review, and Sideways Poetry Journal. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. (jamescroaljackson.com)