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A R Williams

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the poet

Hailing from Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, USA, A R Williams has had his poetry published in various anthologies and magazines – among them, Anti-Heroin Chic, Black Bough Poetry, Fevers of the Mind, Ink, Sweat & Tears, ONE ART and tiny wren lit. He's editor-in-chief of East Ridge Review, and his debut chapbook, A Funeral in the Wild, came out in 2024. A R enjoys nature walks with family, the savour of good-quality coffee, and wearing black t-shirts.

the poems

Virginia Bluebells

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                        growing wild in a wooded

                        clearing where I go to dream,

                        graceful, bowing clusters 

                        of sky-colored goblets


                        dotting the ground haphazardly

                        near a prattling creek,

                        now bundled in my hand, for you,

                        delicately wrapped

                        in unadorned brown paper,

                        to celebrate faint double lines—

                        the promise of a new bloom.

Alone in a Cemetery:
A Golden Shovel

' … if I stepped out of my body I would break
 Into blossom.'


~  James Wright, A Blessing ~

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            As I wandered the grounds, I pondered what it would be like if

            I lay down, closed my eyes, and imagined that I


            had merged with the earth, like rain into dry ground, and stepped

            beyond myself into an existence where, out


            in the wooded part of this cemetery, I became one of

            the venerable oaks, one planted long before my


            grandfather was born, long before his body

            was ravaged by illness, long before I


            learned of his condition, and promised to visit. If only he would

            have stayed till snow's break.


            So now, I ease into

            this dream, with roots extending, yearning, until we finally blossom.

By Your Bedside

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                                    You lay in the hospital bed 

                                    with breath heavy as iron,


                                    a face frozen like a retired

                                    pocket watch, and limbs


                                    as numb as the prayers

                                    uttered at your side.

Publishing credits

Virginia Bluebells / Alone in a Cemetery: A Golden Shovel:

  exclusive first publication by iamb

By Your Bedside: Red Eft Review

© original authors 2024

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