james mcgonigal
Poet  •  Critic

Contact  James McGonigal

Click on the poem title to read the next excerpted poem from Cloud Pibroch.


Distant as one field is from its neighbour
          even when the crop is similar:
something to do with the way the wind blows
          back the grass’s hair.

There is a rhythm to the conversation of today
          with tomorrow: we knew that from the start.
Stones used to penetrate the soil and so
          had to be counted as part of the text.