by Jeremy Worsham

Published in Issue No. 3 ~ April, 1996

I wonder if it used to live,
This frozen explosion.
It has lines like a gardensnake
Makes in the sand,
And its lack of continuity
Suggests that it was alive.

A rock from the sea,
Accordian,
Like a crepe ornament
Now just a crushed ball
lopsided and turned to stone.

It must have lived
Because it lacks perfection
And possesses a calmness
Nature’s enduring beauty after-death,
Like orange, red, and yellow
Leaves of autumn.

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Jeremy Worsham attends college in southern Texas. His experiences in the state universities, there, have convinced him that academia is in serious trouble in this country.
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