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Frailty and Fervor

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

  the religiosity of longing

             potatoes are my new church
long-lasting water-scrubbed love

             in the oven eleven of them
       I want you to count
              carefully

  our time remaining
                        provided what we want
                                    we really want

is growing underground in vast distant fields
    if we could see well enough to count

(originally published in HAD, Winter 2022)

The Bucket

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

Ripples of water
extend into days

we are wordless
with each other.

A storm breaks,
a dog whimpers.

We hear the groaning
Earth shifting

over countless hours
into the endless sea.

I’ve had enough
of windows,

where dreams
are a quick glance

over another
unfinished drink

in the middle
of the day.

(originally published in Count Seeds With Me, Spring 2022)