Tree of Awe

Poems by William Stillwell 2007

Most of my time I distract,
tangled into self-assigned tasks an’ things
whose thrill at accomplishment is less,
less than that instinct instant
our pulse is fingered,
blood courses semen, flesh, eggs, and stones,
smiling perfect realization
that can never hold still
(from one without title)

Every thing rises from intimacy sticky candy on our fingertips
(from The Woman, the Fish, and the Almond Tree)

Will Stillwell is always looking for beauty, and it’s always there. M.L.