Out of the Window

Out of the Window

There are endings.
Then there are

Thirty days of silence
Fall from the window 
Of my throat in a 
Shroud of linen so soiled
Not even
Can cleanse it.

Thirty years of silence
Stretch from the ledge
Of my heart in a 
Frozen sea so vast
Not even 
Can forge it.

I am come awake now, 
Awash in 
A black-eye bruise 
Where once there was
So much laughter.

It is the
And soon all will be
The not quite white
Of winter.

©sdrogers 14 october 2014

Photographic Exhibition at The Camel Saloon

A couple of months ago, Russell Streur, the editor of an online litereary magazine called The Camel Saloon, asked me to do a photographic essay of my native land, the Texas Panhandle.  To say I was shocked at the invitation is a great understatement.  He made the request at the same time he agreed to publish two of my poems and based only on a single shot I’d taken of a crossroads on Hwy 207.

I took the request not as a statement about any sort of photographic talent I might have (which is slim and none), but as proof that the beauty of the Panhandle is recognizable even when captured by an amateur.  So, I agreed.  Even though I had no idea how to go about it.  A professional photographer friend said, “Just carry your camera around with you everywhere you go,”  which turned out to be the best advice and is exactly what I did.


The results have been mounted here:  20/20:  Stephanie D. Rogers Eye on West Texas.

When you get to the end of the exhibition, you can scroll to the bottom of the page and click on About the Photographs for my own thoughts about the project.

And I hope you’ll stroll through the exhibition’s home at The Camel Saloon.  There’s a good deal of talent represented there, and even one or two small pieces of my own.