Dog. Rabbit. Ghost. Earth.

[conqueror49worm]

A bell of dogbane
out in the yard.
The smell of gasoline
right outside the car.

An empty desk.
A handwritten note
pinned to the insides
of the children's coats
with no address.

The hum of the mill.
Pennies in a jar
and sun on the sill
where the cherubs are.

On the floor a pot
to catch the leak.
An ash tree that's rotted.
The things we keep
to ourselves.

This isn't home.
There's a planet where nobody knows
your name.
We're not alone.

A ghost in the forest.
The white-tailed deer
and most of the rest
high tailed it out of here.

All the matted down grass
where a train derailed.
We recall the press
but forget the details
of how it went.

A calendar nine
or ten months old.
Like a colander, I am
made of holes.

The sun on my back.
The rabbit's neck
just a wrung out dish rag.
Filthy sheets on the bed,
but no one asks.