We taste transparent flames, the spices and fruits for
which we have no names. Savor the bitterness of
ausencia while we sever wrists.
Water dripped from the neighbor’s spigot as the planet held tight to its pocket of time. You told me the joke and the next day I saw tiger lilies everywhere. I wasn’t sure if I had just begun to notice them or if there had been some massive overnight planting.
True, it’s been years since I was last in love,
since someone considered winking at me.
And years since I’ve seen anyone buried or born.
The sun shines deep his bawdy light into shrewd strangers
I woke with a wet pillow and hair tangled,
I didn’t care.
It was Sunday.
I heard an owl outside the kitchen window,
winged and cloaked in velvety dark
The forestry man says the tree is over
three hundred years old, a sugar Maple that has been here
since before the time the white man settled.
The road is called Blaire, and it runs through Blacklick, PA. Little Rachel divides the houses on Blaire Road into two categories: real houses, and fake houses. She lives in one of the fake houses—the kind you can put on a giant truck and haul down the highway.