Vince Trimboli

Solstice Poem

This is the great length—
the darkness, ash and descend,
sweeping over the land.
The hallway, the ink black of
night spilling across the smooth floor.
The cool wood slats against my face.

I tell it things, names mostly,
look for you in the slate of shadow
the smell of the cedar closet, playful
smell of some tree bowing to the night-rain,
cut and smoothed over, reshaping
herself into something sacredan echoed breath,

of children hiding inside her ribs,
among the wool and flannel organs
given in her rebirth. Less majestic,
more practical, her job still the same
hold safe in the darkness,
the fruit of our labors.


Vince Trimboli holds an MFA from West Virginia Wesleyan College’s creative writing program. His work focuses on the ever present factors of place and body, and the idea that one cannot exist without the other. Trimboli is a painter and also holds a BA in Theatre Arts from West Virginia Wesleyan College, leading him to teach theatre in many educational settings, as well as display his paintings at various gallery shows. Vince was born and raised in Elkins, West Virginia. Currently, he is Adjunct Professor of English at Davis and Elkins College.


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