poetry by william erickson

Dear Dead Garden,

Look as far as you can
into the crater we opened.

The dark is a tooth coming in.

Our bed is the peak of a chapel.

The marble rolls in a puddle
and all of the stars there
are quilted in place.

Whatever we say
we sing.

William Erickson is a poet and memoirist from Vancouver, Washington. His poetry appears or is forthcoming in West Branch, Bear Review, Heavy Feather, Sixth Finch, and numerous other pubs. He is the author of a chapbook, Monotonies of the Wildlife (FLP).