an old wish
the fur, pieces of bone
that see-saw
in what the raccoon left
when the trees get the wind up
an old wish
the deserted dirt-daubers’
crusty pipe-organ home,
hushed and hard
and threatening
an old wish
the abandoned fort
that grew mossy
and wilder than we were
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Caddo Veil
I could be wrong–I’m not a prophet, that I know of–but I predict your poetry will be widely recognized, even taught in what I pray remains of public school English classes…
jacsprat
What a nice thing to say! Thanks so much! I like that kind of prophesy. 🙂 Predictions about the country, on the other hand…