If a man alone in a cabin falls to his knees, does anyone hear him? Before sunrise he easily mistakes frost for blossoms, the stunned tableau framed into triptych by thecabin's sliding doors. If a cardinal, descending, becomesthe scene's only movement and he reads it as a metaphorfor his pain's trajectory descending from mind to a throat closed around prayer, can we hear how his silence alters?
In his third collection, Sancta (Ahsahta Press), through a series of seventy-word prose poems, Andrew Grace '01 imagines a man in crisis who has retreated to a forest cabin by a lake for healing. Nature, spirit, and meditation infuse the poetry.
Reprinted from Sancta, (c) 2012 by Andrew Grace, courtesy of Ahsahta Press.