Poem: Ghost Trance

This poem was originally published in 2River View, which has been going strong for over ten years. I have been published in about 200 journals, and 2River is in my top 20 favorite acceptances of all. To see my review, go here:

2River Encomium

For an audio recording of me reading the poem (special plug-in needed):

The not-so-sonorous Owl

Thanks for gliding by!

Owl

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Ghost Trance

fire ants lick
but he won’t burn, not after
decaying off minute
by year.

he’s a scaffold
where issues were hung
and the executioner
forgot to take them down.

dew for a weep,
a clutch of nettle for skin.
once a puff adder
became an arm, another time
a heron.

he judges all
from his bench of finished life,
sparing only
an ichneumon’s wing.

green and rot
kiss like horny teens
while he ages with the swamp--

decades
of skull-backed moths
and smitten loons.