9/7

ghost houses

i feather & you collect me like kindling. 
in the country something is always entering
ghosthood. you take your flashlight & i take 
a crystal bowl. in the backyard, the birds die
one by one, dandelions. yellow & then
nothing but breath & then scattered. 
we hang ghost houses in the trees for the birds. 
tell me one creature who isn't in the process of returning. 
i sleep walk down the highway towards the water tower.
eat wild onion until my teeth turn to eggs.
hatching little spirits. we whistle 
& the trees whistles back.
Advertisement

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.