DIRT ROAD HERITAGE SOCIETY

DIRT ROAD HERITAGE SOCIETY

power issues

power issues
power issues

Moon Phase




POETRY

Thursday, January 21

Excerpt from "unrequited"


i am
falling for ghosts
vowing not to drown
in my inner life.

Houses discreetly enclose the dreams within.
Dogs talk in circles like ripples and waves over the suburban streets and cats silently watch her pass pause in their stride or their preen, the owl glides over, outstretched wing noiseless.
She steals: takes perfect roses from moonlit gardens home to her one room world so that she can watch them age and change and their beauty grow. The air there crackles and rustles as she moves through, the petals of drying roses sliding together; their perfumed dusty air in eddies swirls, and the door bumps gently closed.

There is a mouse in the basket of dried wildflowers near the window. It is a wild mouse and she tries to entice it into view with sesame seeds and water laid in oyster shells at the base of the goblet shaped basket. She sees it only briefly through the cane. It likes violins playing on her radio. It tells her strange mouse secrets and runs through the straw stalks and flower dust making small noises. She leaves the window open for it to come and go.
One night she woke to see it climbing up a twig to the windowsill and watched it climb through the little hole in the screen out onto the ledge; as she pushed herself up to see where it would go next - its shoulder blades extended, it grew wings under its fur and leapt out into the night.

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