Faith Hope & Fiction

Online Fiction, Poetry, Essays, Art, Photography

Near to Where I’ll Find Myself

Tom Sheehan


In the innards of my soul,
the bare breath of it, bones
not playing a meager role,
all parts make this whole.

I am what I am, bound
for unknown delivery,
some vast place of peace
and lore that will have me

as faulted as I am, devious
in search of worthy word,
a hunter past littered ken
where only music’s heard,

where played is my mystery
of language at best reach,
a memorable line of poetry,
Columbus upon the beach.

Haul me up in any form,
make way for a foolish bird,
though flight’s beyond my fancy,
but best my fancy’s stirred.

Mercies Found in Christmas Light | Poetry by Tom Sheehan

Tom Sheehan served in the 31st Infantry, Korea 1951-52, graduated Boston College in 1956. His books are Epic Cures; Brief Cases, Short Spans; Collection of Friends; From the Quickening; The Saugus Book; Ah, Devon Unbowed; Reflections from Vinegar Hill; This Rare Earth & Other Flights. His 28 published books include several western collections: The Nations, Where Skies Grow Wide and Cross Trails from Pocol Press; Six Guns, Inc., by Nazar Look, and three titles issued in 2016: The Cowboys, Swan River Daisy and Jehrico. His works have appeared in Rosebud, Literally Stories, DM du Jour, Danse Macabre, Linnet’s Wings, Serving House Journal, Eclectica, Copperfield Review, La Joie Magazine, Soundings East, Vermont Literary Review, Literary Orphans, Indiana Voices Journal, Frontier Tales, Western Online Magazine, Provo Canyon Review, Vine Leaves Journal, Nazar Look, Eastlit, Rope & Wire Magazine, The Literary Yard, Green Silk Journal, Fiction on the Web, The Path,, The Cenacle, and more. In process are Valor’s Commission, Keating Script, and three collections.

Tom has 31 Pushcart nominations, and five Best of the Net nominations (one winner), and short story awards from Nazar Look for 2012- 2015, and a Georges Simenon Fiction Award. He is the 2016 writer-in-residence at Danse Macabre Magazine.


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Tom Sheehan

I am bound by my soul to keep my mind on your thoughtful treatment of my mere words. You are a sweetheart of all sweethearts, and I love you for all of this. Grace be with you always, and you have a head start already in motion. Waked a son of 58 yesterday in Maine, 300 miles up the road, and I will send you an ’80’s pix of him and his dear pal when I get this machine figured out, Tom, your devotee.

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