walking down my own damn street I’m struck
by a purple rotting house I’ve never seen before
a lightning realization!
what else have I missed?
the two story yam,
yellow figurines. it is an aria
as I walk then hear my name
called from the next door second-floor
the poet who lives there stays home to watch
the wanderers no one else notices.
James Croal Jackson is the author of The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights Press, 2017). His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in FLAPPERHOUSE, Yes Poetry, The Indianapolis Review, and elsewhere. He edits The Mantle. Find him in Columbus, Ohio or at jimjakk.com.