Readings Newsletter
Become a Readings Member to make your shopping experience even easier.
Sign in or sign up for free!
You’re not far away from qualifying for FREE standard shipping within Australia
You’ve qualified for FREE standard shipping within Australia
The cart is loading…
Along Texas roadways rest thousands of contemplative shrines, usually marked by small, white metal crosses. Anchored by the stunning photography of roadside memorials by Dan Streck, this landmark book allows four poets to respond to the visual summons of roadside memorials with lyric intensity and eloquent ekphrasis: Larry D. Thomas, Jack B. Bedell, Sarah Cortez, and Loueva Smith. Graphic designer Nancy J. Parsons brings her award-winning skills to perfectly meld photography with poetry in this gorgeous volume. A Plain, White Cross
It lists slightly
beside the highway.
Whoever placed it there
drove its upright
deep into the earth,
intimate with the tragedy
of wind and driving rain.
Knowing the certainty
of erasure, they left it
nameless, just a simple
wooden cross harboring,
for a while, the traces
of unbearable loss.
As if lit from within
with white light, it glows
beside the silent highway:
white light stark
as the grief of the bereaved,
white as the clouds above,
streaking, disintegrating.
Larry D. Thomas
$9.00 standard shipping within Australia
FREE standard shipping within Australia for orders over $100.00
Express & International shipping calculated at checkout
Along Texas roadways rest thousands of contemplative shrines, usually marked by small, white metal crosses. Anchored by the stunning photography of roadside memorials by Dan Streck, this landmark book allows four poets to respond to the visual summons of roadside memorials with lyric intensity and eloquent ekphrasis: Larry D. Thomas, Jack B. Bedell, Sarah Cortez, and Loueva Smith. Graphic designer Nancy J. Parsons brings her award-winning skills to perfectly meld photography with poetry in this gorgeous volume. A Plain, White Cross
It lists slightly
beside the highway.
Whoever placed it there
drove its upright
deep into the earth,
intimate with the tragedy
of wind and driving rain.
Knowing the certainty
of erasure, they left it
nameless, just a simple
wooden cross harboring,
for a while, the traces
of unbearable loss.
As if lit from within
with white light, it glows
beside the silent highway:
white light stark
as the grief of the bereaved,
white as the clouds above,
streaking, disintegrating.
Larry D. Thomas