Ghost, circa 1882.

 Where to, miss? 
the air whispered
the horses’ bells peeled by the winds
jingling, the horses ready to leave
I turned my neck a little
to see if they were there—
was I ready for a ride?
—but the driver had already turned away
leaving kicked-up dust
of moon-smoke in his wake.

I’m Fixing This One.

Because imagine

Imagine a world in which that was enough

Because I had enough

Elsewhere

And if that were enough

I wouldn’t need any more.

 

But there are as many worlds as mirrors.

 

Imagine a world —

a different glimmer of the disco-ball

a flicker of glass away from here, a crack

a hair’s breadth.

A moment.

Imagine a world —

Imagine a —

Lost.

The moment, lost.

Lost with its beauty, latent, potent, gone.

Laden, then lost

at sea.

As ships upon the sea.

 

As many words as ships upon the sea.

 

Sailor, spy.

A sailor’s spyglass at sea.