Shifting for Myself
Poems by Charlie Hughes


This book may be obtained from your favorite local bookstore  or you may order directly from Wind or from on-line vendors such as

"Hughes's poems -- from his experimental villanelles to his free verse and narrative forms -- serve as symbol for an approach to literature . . . and life.  Never brooding, rarely anxious, with an obvious twinkle in his eye, he proclaims in these poems his open love affair with the language, his joy in just the right turn of phrase, the sounds of word rubbing on word, the unexpected insight or discovery.  His delight in the art of poetry -- and life -- is contagious here."
                                 -- Steven R. Cope

"Hughes's setting are often rural and, in addition to the human cast of characters, include turtles, dogs, giant snakes, sheep and lambs, chickens and foxes. One of Hughes's greatest strengths as a poet, I think, is his ability to artfully and imaginatively enter the life and consciousness of the creatures of the world, large and small."
                                  -- Jeff Worley
Charlie Hughes grew up on a Kentucky farm.  He holds degrees from Transylvania University and the University of Kentucky.  The former editor of Wind, a literary magazine, he is employed as an analytical chemist.  His poems and short fiction have appeared in many prominent literary magazines, including Kansas Quarterly, Kentucky Poetry Review, Hollins Critic, International Poetry Review, ART/LIFE, Cumberland Poetry Review, Appalachian Heritage, Cincinnati Poetry Review and others.

Book order form

Other books from Wind


Wind Publications
600 Overbrook Dr
Nicholasville, KY 40356


From the book :

Driving Force

I could have taken the interstate
after the funeral
but don't.  Tonight I want
the river road.  I need
the knowledge of water
that has washed for ages over stone
to form this dark gorge.
Tonight give me the hum of an engine
breathing easy in the cool dark,
a road that snakes and clings
to the limestone cliff.  I love
the not knowing
what's around each bend, how the old
Chevy lunges into each curve.
Swift God, give me acceleration
and the surge of shifting gears.
Let the wind's cool fingers
rip open the night.
O let this hunk of metal and flesh
lean into that wild darkness
the moan of tires holding on for life.