James R. Whitley (poem) "Tuber" in Literary Potpourri

Because every ending
is itself a beginning,
the red ball tumbles over
and over itself, rolls
along the flat hard ground.
Because, deep within,
something festers, putrefies
like rotting rootwork--
the bacteria setting in
to start the decay,
without malice,
the sizzle of some crucial
process finally starting up--
I touch my hand to this
hollowed ground and pray.
And I haven't done so
since I was a child of six,
at least not in earnest,
at least not with
any real belief
that if the raw moment,
the terrible chasm
was to be survived, this
would be the only way.

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	Poem by James R. Whitley TUBER Because every ending is itself a beginning, the red ball tumbles over and over itself, rolls along the flat hard ground. Because, deep within, something festers, putrefies like rotting rootwork-- the bacteria setting in to start the decay, without malice, the sizzle of some crucial process finally starting up-- I touch my hand to this hollowed ground and pray. And I haven't done so since I was a child of six, at least not in earnest, at least not with any real belief that if the raw moment, the terrible chasm was to be survived, this would be the only way. § § § Although originally from New York, James currently lives in Boston, Massachusetts. His work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and published in several journals including Coal City Review, HEArt, The Paumanok Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review and Xavier Review. His first book Immersion (Lotus Press, 2002) was selected by Lucille Clifton as the winner of the 2001 Naomi Long Madgett Poetry Award. You can reach him at JWhit999@aol.com . GO TO NEXT PAGE