M. Stone

Issue 17


I rose from marsh mud.
I knew a clean man
I married
in the great snowfall.

Consider at the outset—
I am sick with the Time’s

Keen and lovely man,
alcoholic dream.
I lost you to water, summer.

Now in one year
my life is hung up.

July, waxwings
something in the water.

Along the river,
the graves—
traces of living things.

Source & Method
I constructed this poem, including the title, using only the titles of poems listed in the Table of Contents from the following book:

Niedecker, Lorine. The Granite Pail, edited by Cid Corman, Gnomon Press, 1985, 1996.

M. Stone is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in San Pedro River Review, UCity Review, formercactus, and numerous other journals.

Photo by Annie Spratt