(Nebraska ghost town)
The moon inflames all darkened streets,
Her liquored haze a whitened waste
Where raccoons bandit for gluttonies
And wash their catch of ill-gotten gains.
Cathedral spires of cottonwoods cast scorn
On wanton mice who ravage groceries
Of grain in irrigated streets of corn;
An owlish vengeance thwarts reprieve.
The coyote’s heated howl cajoles
To gain. He is a starry heaving profiteer.
All shadows, miles away from parish souls,
Cover the glare unleashed by godly fear.
The cockled burr infenced by scrutiny
Laments the neighborly obscurity.
“St. Deroin” was printed in Esther, No. 1 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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