For Those Shadows Beckoning
The poltergeist moves amongst us
pyroclastic as though
rebuilding the past.
A lost insect eating through onion skins
it lacks sea legs. I’ve memories of drinking Coke
on a Georgian Bay beach.
That was before this and what
happened in between. A mountain
has grown from the coarse summer sand.
Such obstacles abound. No voices I have
can scale these realities. Rely on fire
and brimstone. Rely on rain and wind
to return us to the beach. In time.