From Maine To Louisiana

Photo by brewbooks

the house lizards, a pack of anoles,
know her only by the ghost heat fading
from her footsteps, watch her with quick
blinking eyes her unhurried pace
all the way to the edge of the portico
wreathed in night blooming cereus
and guarded by the sago palm swaying
an octopus all thick-hipped shadow

she dreams about a girl sweeter
than jasmine and brighter than a down east
sunrise in the middle of summer
running downhill holding hands and cruising
Broadway Bucksport shouting at boys
weaving fantasies about white weddings
and winters that never end lips red
and honey breath hanging in the air

Callan remembers every dream but not
the journey she makes each time
wakes up in her bed alone soles raw
from treading the sharp fronds a pain
somewhat less than being abandoned
by the person of her dreams and told
to grow up because first loves never last
except, she thinks, they do if they never heal

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Focused thought on @$@love Passionate thoughts on Dreams Delightful thoughts on Pain

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.

• The Return Of H.p. Lovecraft
• Visitor From Before The Dawn Of Language
• A New Prophet
• Political Animals
• Phases Of The Road

All poems written by Glendodge