Spun Glass, Harp Strings, and Theology Each will weave and intertwine like silk, ice, sand, and even you— working backwards from one great line. That’s because the images shine like moonlight, money, and white hot glue— each will weave and intertwine. Rhymes, like leather, must be fine: water words to draw, wooden ones to hew working backwards from one great line. What’s appearing is true, divine— within the echoes find something new: each will weave and intertwine. Nature helps, a tree, a vine, writing in a silent room, with a view, working backwards from one great line. By the end, each word a sign, when it’s time to start anew, each will weave and intertwine, working backwards from one great line.
Isaac James Richards is a poet, essayist, and graduate student in the BYU English Department. He has won four poetry contest awards and five essay contests. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Irreantum, BYU Studies Quarterly, Y-Magazine, and Literature and Belief. He is also a contributing editor at Wayfare Magazine. He can be reached via his personal website: https://www.isaacrichards.com/
Amethyst Review 