By Jimmy Phillips

A dream of you
comes silent:
a silk-wound
apparition with
an angel instead
of a voice,
floating toward
the sound of
gilded iron
pinged by
a fingernail.

You come as silent
as someone with
secrets instead
of words, flowers
for thoughts, blooming
in vacuumed space
away from touches:

a shadowed man
against a yellowed
sky, hoping for
a peace, a whisper,
advice against

It's born
from us;

it fills
spaces we
intend for


Jimmy Phillips
I'm a second year graduate student at Angelo State University in Texas completing a Creative Thesis in poetry. I've recently been selected to serve as Editor for ASU's Oasis Literary Magazine for the 2001-2 school year. Earlier this year, I was selected to read at The Writer's Conference in Honor of Elmer Kelton held in San Angelo.


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