In This Place I expect the morning light to end. And it does. It does. The sun reminds me which way is west. One less thing to guess about. Take me away from my plowed down routine I’m mostly lost. The dreams I wake with don’t stay close. Last night I dreamed about walking among flowers. This morning, one window frames the consolation of an empty field. Mike James makes his home outside Nashville, Tennessee and has published widely. His many poetry collections include: Red Dirt Souvenir Shop (Analog Submissions), Journeyman’s Suitcase ( Luchador), Parades (Alien Buddha), Jumping Drawbridges in Technicolor (Blue Horse), First-Hand Accounts from Made-Up Places (Stubborn Mule), Crows in the Jukebox (Bottom Dog), My Favorite Houseguest (FutureCycle) , and Peddler’s Blues (Main Street Rag.) He served as an associate editor of The Kentucky Review and currently ...
Like the title says.