~camouflaging ghostsmoke




pine-scented wind

carries an effervescence

of evergreen

     and I ache to come in

     from the cold

     to climb back between

crisp sheets and heavy blankets

and sip sugared tea

curl into pages of the poem

I slept with last night


his breath smells of hand-rolled


and my skin was like dogwood, fully

in bloom

     the clouds are dripping honey

and hummingbirds have forgotten how to



rain sprinkles the cotton t-shirts

snapping on the neighbor’s


it’s the coming of another angry


and june’s mock-orange already

fears the fall

     – her delicate pale petals


the horizon is unwashed

     dingy in its raw ash

leaves are burned out now, disheveled

losing their grip

this northdriven wind spits at my face

as if it wishes to grab me by the throat

      and steal away my voice

©  lori hamilton


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