Dispatch #142

Reaches

Dear friends, a quick note:

I’ve made four signed copies of my book Rosary Made of Air available for purchase on my website. I will happily personalize inscriptions, just let me know.

Now to this week’s poem—

Joseph

Reaches


The draft that lifts the page

slips through
solid wall, evades 

an origin.


+


It isn’t like anything else—
this monochrome expanse

at the edge of March. Cloud 
frozen above a public works lot.

How far now below zero. 


+


Monday’s bottom-upped sun
scumbles over new snow

and your face, leaving 
only eyes at the center.


+


All the ghosts out 
in the open.