One down, two to go. It’s a fact we have to come to terms with to revel in that cardinal on the fencerow, that heron standing alone on one leg in the snow. Our backs get closer to the wall every day. If we hope to go out with a miracle or two stacked in our favor, we need to hone our vision and become enthralled with the mist rising off the snow, that red sky, those stars shouting our names from above. First, we accept and then ignore the fall and then sing like the world is ours to own.
David James has published three books and six chapbooks of poetry. More than thirty of his one-act plays have been produced; James teaches at Oakland Community College.