Monday, April 27, 2015

Julie Gates - One Poem


The fissure in the broken frame of my winter,
Hewn from molding, gray, aged elm,
Cracks the mirror holding me captive, hanging,
Crooked, crammed in the corner, clothed in cobwebs,
Where the wispy bones of a deadly spider
Still loiter,
Until the hour the jagged silver fingers
Growing the crevice
Spin a fractured web,
Become a kaleidoscope,
And my steel cold prison crashes down the steep slope
With the clamor of an avalanche
Sending shockwaves of spindly shards
Over brittle brown earth,
Spiking the solid surface,
Seeking the chasm concealing life—
What was trapped between wood and glass

Dr. Julie Gates has directed the English Education program at Angelo State University for the past 13 years. She is also a creative nonfiction specialist and a creative writer. Her poetry has appeared in Carcinogenic Poetry, Concho River Review, and Visions with Voices.

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