P.J. Williams

Morning Devotion


In the time it takes
for the last old leaves to be
pushed away by the budding
green & fall like
cinders, a bell sounds,
& a cardinal, & the thrumming
of light through a wasp’s
wing I confuse for the echo
of each. Might beauty be
limited to this: looking
so close, & closer, until
light pools in your ears & slags
away, leaving only
the tangible, aching air?

P.J. Williams was born and raised in North Carolina. His poems appear or are forthcoming in DIAGRAM, Salt Hill, The Cincinnati Review, Ninth Letter, The Pinch, and others. He is co-founder and lead editor of Utter–an online journal of writing and visual art–and co-editor of the forthcoming anthology It Was Written: Poetry Inspired by Hip-Hop (Minor Arcana Press). He also serves as a poetry editor for Slash Pine Press.