Foster


Foster trim a strange stair shaken
ginger on the rooftops, eaves
words and more ring round themselves
provoking meaning never understood
nor meant to be.

There they sit the lights full shimmer
dancing on the stolen drifts
in colors braver than the stars
as pebbles sifted from the sands
with specks of lime and grit.

Salty streaks tear down the texture
dropped from sieves as crying dogs
their posture mocked with mildew,
rotten, spores in marrow hydras sleep
without the narrow sum.

This and more may fall in time with
seldom hint of any story reft
intact within the space behind my eyes
a simple tale of bridges crossed and
never any time again.

Tracy McCulloch, 1987
Ball State University, Muncie, Indiana


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