Delta Darling

Locke, California,
feeling black sway of long
fingers that can’t
find the noose

to tie the words together…
Tan sand unaware of spirits
lingering, lost to emerging
orbs and voices

we can’t discern, have no
meaning–Stopped taking
ultraviolet pictures trying
to catch a print

or way to know if you’re
still emitting after
all this time, with nothing
but dust on your side


One thought on “Delta Darling

  1. california seems not so golden in this poem. references to a “noose,” “lingering spirits,” lost spirits and “nothing but dust” present a grim picture. i like the moodiness and the title which turns out to be ironic.

    Liked by 1 person

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