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Haunted

The ghosts have returned home

slipping between the day

to day conversations

holding our silences

in locked yellow boxes

without a trace of air

.

I would say I’m happy

to most circumstances

with my small discontents

not sad enough to search

for bits of joy scattered

across a field like grain

weeks after the harvest

was gleaned by dark sparrows.

(November 30, 2019)

The Corners of the Mouth (providing nourishment)

from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress

I return again

and again to

gain small bits

of what she offers.

Often drunk

at her table,

I feed on

her infinite root.

Even as I am

changed, Poetry

absorbs the earth

and all upon it.

What part I am,

what part I have

become, rises

into her dance.

(March 6, 2019)