Poetry Porch: Poetry


By Celia Gilbert

Sunlight frowning on the piles,
an idle wind leafs
through pages
rank with mold
foxed and lichened with silence:
apparel of the mind
no longer in fashion.

Word heaps ready for the shovel
no kitchen midden can protect you,
you, not glass, born of sand and fire,
you, not steel or iron forged
in flames,
pulp, once ready to
take the press and stamp of thought,

now only soft breathing sun absorbing,
prairie winds . . .
ghosts and ghost towns
abandoned mines of mind . . .

phantom readers crowd in,
here they sit
time travelers
silently projected
outwards from their lives.

Copyright © 2015 by Celia Gilbert.