Krumville Cemetery, Olivebridge, New York
I’m not sure why I glanced back
At the bus driver grinding a cigarette butt
With her heel into the gravel driveway.
She was a figure from a myth, from
One of his poems, a stranger, a guardian
Marking the passage to the other world.
Josh Kalscheur – Blank Shot
I should not find my form
untouchable in ways others find it
passable. I should want to stand
by a small bridge, behind