Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal


William C. Burns

Maple leaves
wet stars on the rusting brown

Silver sun
nebulous orb sliding
behind pewter clouds
in a sky the color of sadness

whisper hissy secrets
through the umber ocher husks of weeds
and ripple the gloomy waters

All the grain
harvested or
in the bellies of birds
who’ve flown to far-away places

This alien place
once felt the hand
of a child with my name

My coat
cannot stop the wind


Parting Glance

William C. Burns

I can’t touch things

caressing fingers
hoping to hold
a beautiful everything

ice cube moment
even as you try
to grasp it all the harder

it should be so easy you know
to part with things
the stuff left behind
the memories are all you hold

like a glass mirror
when everything is gone
full of empty


WILLIAM C. BURNS was born on the trailing edge of the beautiful generation in the rolling hills of West Virginia. Perhaps due to some fluke in prenatal nutrition or quantum fluctuation in genetic makeup, he works several media, including graphic art, poetry, theater, sculpture, raising children, microprocessor interface design, computer code, etc.

© William C. Burns

Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal ISSN 1554-8449, Copyright © 2004-2012