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...THE MAN WITH THE WOODEN LEG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 18 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING DENIAL [OR, DENIALL] by GEORGE HERBERT LITTLE BERNHARD by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO A BIRD IN THE CITY by MATTHIAS BARR LINES ADAPTED TO A FAVOURITE MILITARY AIR by JAMES HAY BEATTIE |