by Marc J. Frazier

First of all,
what choice did I have but to give freely
what wasn’t mine–
a gift like all the rest:
sough of wildflowers in wind, the growing
moon, the fecund tomb of night.
Though none of this is mine,
I thought my body sacred, a compact
holy perfect as God.
Now less than I was,
I want something more:
a language to share,
trees full of knowledge,
the wholeness of love.
What do I know?
What can be given can be taken back.
For a greater good.
The fingers of palms spread fan-like towards heaven.
I want to grow like them.
There will be more than this ache in my side.
I build a house of my desire.
I welcome what remains
to be given.


About the Author

Marc J. Frazier has been widely published in journals including The Spoon River Poetry Review, ACM, Slant, Plainsongs, Poet Lore, Rhino, Eclipse, The Broome Review, and Permafrost.  He is the recipient of an Illinois Arts Council Award for poetry, has had several residencies at the Ragdale Foundation in Lake Forest, Illinois, and has done numerous readings in the Chicago area. His book The Way Here will be available  later this summer 2012. Marc’s website address is