Gail Thomas


Other trees drop them one by one,
while gingko spins green into gold
fans, grows scars then waits, mum,
until frost severs every yellow hold

in answer to the maestro’s baton,
lets loose a luminous rain up and down
the stunned coast at once, blanket of sun
under trunks, gilt jeweling the ground,

like pleasure reined in until the last
stroke provokes each muscle to give way,
toes uncurl, breath’s staccato fast and fast
unfurls the backbone’s wish to obey,

all sense undone in a single wave,
rise and fall eclipsing the grave.

Gail Thomas

is the author of the poetry collections Odd Mercy, Waving Back, No Simple Wilderness, and Finding the Bear. Her poems have been widely published in journals and anthologies, including CALYX, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, and North American Review. Among her awards are the Charlotte Mew Prize from Headmistress Press, the Narrative Poetry Prize from Naugatuck River Review, and the Massachusetts Center for the Book’s “Must Read” award.