Home PageArchivesVolume no. 4Issue 2Poetry: Carter Smith

Snow Hill

Carter Smith

Slate tile
fallen off
the slate-
covered steeple

                                                I believe
                                                in if not
                                                the flowers
                                                she plant
                                                ed, then in
                                                creek bed,
                                                roots in
                                                your water
                                                where the
                                                tied the

and they sank
let’s re
member and say it:
they were not
azaleas but
a flower I can
no longer
know the
name of: help me

                                                little room
                                                where I
                                                learned to
                                                write, was
                                                read to,
                                                time, a
                                                joke, holding
                                                your mouth
                                                this way
                                                to sing or

Carter Smith
Carter Smith’s poems have appeared in Pleiades, Packingtown Review, and Little Red Leaves. He lives in Austin, Texas.

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