right hand pointing

 

     
  R. T. Castleberry

Of the Dark Earth

 


Any spring

and I’m jumping out of my skin.

More heat around the corner,

more children, more dogs

left loose in the street.

Training for the summer offensive begins now.

Another anniversary falls for my father’s last illness,

my brother’s heart attack.

The narrative images are a celebrity trial,

the nuclear option,

the lash of agenda and election cycle.

Mountain thaws flood their tributaries.

These longer days clot the calendar,

like ice floes in a stream.

 

 


 

 

 

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