Poetry by Michelle Williams

     Erich Ferdinand CC




​flip-phone 

today we talked about your beautiful garden which feeds your stir fry habit and the beans you prepare in the crockpot for the weeks ahead. it’s the simplicity i long for and when i hear your life through the flip phone pressed against your ear, i don’t feel like i’m disappearing. you tell me about your walk by the water and the time the deer ate your sweet potato vine and every single vegetable. you say it with a gentle laugh, more than happy to provide for local wildlife and there’s joy in your hands in the soil - as if they were eating directly from your open palms. and i can imagine the wonder in your bones, the delight in your eyes at their leftovers. i wish for the world to inherit this gentleness. 




Michelle Williams lives in Texas but misses the trees in Virginia. She has work upcoming in Overtly Lit, listens to music constantly, and currently works as a fraud investigator. @michellewpoetry on twitter.