Eric Fisher Stone lives in Fort Worth, Texas where he graduated from Texas Christian University. His poetry has appeared in “The Driftwood Review,” “Puffin Circus” and “The Houston Literary Review.”
Let there be grapevines and potato roots
in October, gourds bursting like a spout
of apples, pears and all globular fruits
ripened to completion. New light breaks out
in the start of things; the daytime clears.
In the fall let eels sink whale-fat, the shouts
of seals bark that joy is the end of fear.
Children hopscotch and scream against the wind
and autumn fills them with chill in their ears.
Their ocean is that first sea, summer’s end
that first changing season. Trees blow moonhair,
leaves trailing behind them where time shall bend
to memory’s beginning. Birth’s first air
sears too much light, until it’s light we wear.