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

                 window

 

the poet who lives there stays home to watch

the wanderers no one else notices.

 

 


James Croal Jackson

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.