With defective thyroid glands, I got up early -- no communication last night with your ghost but I dreamt of flint sickles. Black, we know the cemetery. Lot of land around here. Boy down the hill arrested in the process of his growth. Don't know his name. I'm here for only three days. Locked myself out -- meant only to take in morning air. But had to make do with the facts. Necrosis in the tips of my fingers. River down there and the yellow cat followed me down across the tracks. I sat on a rock alongside the water. Dow Chemical across on the other side with train tracks going there. But I'm on this side looking way the other way till Bill wakes and unlocks the door. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NAMING FOR LOVE by HAYDEN CARRUTH I'VE NOTHING TO OFFER by DAVID IGNATOW CALLING DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON IN QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A MINUET OF MOZART'S by SARA TEASDALE |