Back among the living, recovered from my sickness
or past lives, or both, however you want to read me,
I seek out stone fences. I try to amuse. I wander
here and there beneath Earth’s great blue skies.
Myronn Hardy – You: An Apparition
The you not there.
The you I think of beneath yellow leaves.
Franz Wright – Wheeling Motel
The vast waters flow past its back-yard. You can purchase a six-pack in bars! Tammy Wynette’s on the marquee - Read rest of poem
January Gill O’Neil – Sunday