Some weeks seemed to be
More nights than days
Maybe darkness was just a hangover
So many things you could mimic
With your voice
Owls and crickets thought you kin
How did that all start?
One thing happens
Then you chop up a picnic table
To burn in the backyard
You bet on how long certain embers will stay hot
You talk about the driveway letter you will write with fresh ash
Mike James makes his home outside Nashville, Tennessee. He has published in numerous magazines, large and small, throughout the country. His many poetry collections include: Leftover Distances (Luchador), Parades (Alien Buddha), Jumping Drawbridges in Technicolor (Blue Horse), and Crows in the Jukebox (Bottom Dog.) He has received multiple Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations.