John Leax

So much my son, I think on in the night. You are beloved. I’ve hidden fearful words In my heart. Some, double-edged as swords Inscribing silver arcs through morning light,...

I dream of grace. The tongue that might have praised,that might have sung forgiveness equal tothe sum of all the mercy God shot through...

I don’t remember. I was twelve, not yetaware of how a parent dies beforea child’s bewilderment. I lay beset...

The shavings curled from my plane the afternoonshe stood a shadow in the door and spokethe single syllable. I thought, So soon,but deep in me a harmony awoke,...