Remembrance Rustle

Two retreivers 
zig zag in the dark
tails wagging for 
scented 
cotton tail 
woodchuck
unwary rodentia
transitory coyote
even adaptable deer

I lag in the wild grass 
past the corner pole
awkwardly 
illuminating 
standing rainwater
on a side street 
of vacant lots
not too far removed 
from the latest attempts
of urban renaissance
& suburban 
sanctimony.

Unlike the curious canines,
immune to 
survivor's guilt,
I'm leaving 
another voice mail
a mumbled mantra 
to an old consort
once a vivacious
compatriot
a mythical muse
now withering into 
cosmic debris
unable to speak
shimmy 
or savor

no serum 
no savior.

If only she could pick up
for some ghostly laughter
at off-color jokes 
best shared offline
instead of feebly
reassuring her
in the managed care 
of disheartening doubt
the yelps
of recognition
the echoing horn blare
from faraway 
freighters 
on better nights.

My near-death 
inexperience 
trails off 
into the rustling solace
of overgrown 
boundaries
the oncology 
of self-reproach
the lost pearl necklace 
of imagination 
& what could 
never be.

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Vacant lot, Detroit, summer, 2023.

Photo by author

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