Poetry - Issue 12 | June 2011


by Tim


These latitudes bring unaccustomed blessings
like mangoes falling on my tin-roofed shack,
the solitude to hear my own confession,
and penance that renounces all I lack.

I’ve passed a grateful season on this couch
in rooms as stark and naked as a prayer
with plywood walls in need of human touch
and fingers tracing nothing in the air.

But outside in the garden where the rains
entreat a teeming lushness from the earth
lianas, epiphytes, and creeping vines
enact a strangling forest of rebirth.

At rest, I lie untouched above the fray
with fragrant strife and rumors of decay.

About the author

Tim Hawkins has lived and traveled widely throughout North America, Southeast Asia, and Latin America, where he has worked as a journalist, technical writer, communications manager and teacher in international schools. His career has also taken some interesting detours into such posts as fish cannery slime table worker, stevedore, nose-hair clipper model and cram school teacher. After spending much of the ‘90’s and ‘00’s abroad, he currently lives in his hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. His writing has appeared in numerous print and online publications, most recently in Blueline, Eclectica, Iron Horse Literary Review, The Midwest Quarterly, The Pedestal Magazine, Shit Creek Review and The Smoking Poet. He was nominated by the journal Four and Twenty for a 2012 Pushcart Prize. His first collection, Wanderings at Deadline, was published by Aldrich Press in 2012. It is available at Amazon.com and through the publisher’s website. Find out more about Tim and his writing at timhawkinspoetry.com.

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