I am a ghost
my dark eyed grandma is too
I have a ghost dog
and a cat you can see right through.
My Mother dug us
all our graves
and my Uncle buried us deep
they planted a sapling
over our heads
and begged us to keep asleep.
My Dad is not a ghost
my Grandpa isn’t one too
they all live in a fancy new house
with my Mom, my uncle
and a room
full of children’s toys
that nobody ever goes into.
The neighbors smile and wave hello
when they walk or drive slowly by
and nobody asks what
to the girl, her pets and her dark eyed grandmother
in their old house
the night stars all fell from a red cloudy sky
Moon turned icy blue.
Day 2 of Na/GloPoWriMor: Write a poem that resists closure by ending on a question, inviting the reader to continue the process of reading (and, in some ways, writing) the poem even after the poem ends.
There are buildings you’ve never seen before
cats lounging in windows, curled in improbable shapes around potted plants, snoozing with one eye open under wind chimes, their fuzzy cheeks pressed against half drunk cans of soda pop.
There are streets you’ve never walked down before
lined with pastel colored cars and brightly colored garbage cans parked on the curbs where they silently fight for space on sidewalks much smaller then the ones at home
squeezed between brick and wooden houses and markets with decals of dancing fruit and children eating ice cream on their glass doors
little diners named after Mothers and Grandfathers and sometimes dogs that have chickens and alligators or maybe fish painted on the windows.
Don’t pretend like you know where you’re going
as you stroll by the cats, the diners, the markets, the parked cars
don’t walk with the swagger and squint of a seasoned traveler, the wily explorer who has scaled the pyramids or cruised all of the Seven Seas years ago on a dare.
Put the phone away, delete the app, it’s okay
take a wrong turn
to not know where this road leads and that road ends
close your eyes,
don’t take a breath
Jump right on in
It Begins Day 2- For our first (optional) prompt, let’s take our cue from O’Neil’s poem, and write poems that provide the reader with instructions on how to do something.