First Ghost
The dusky fragrance of rain
and liquid lightning strikes
season our pleasure
sweeten the heat
of our lavish play.
After, you tell me
the final frame
before unspeakable loss
how you partitioned the clutter
negotiated the leap
how you now feel
infused, a fat-lit blossom.
~ Found poem composed/modified from words in Brigit Pegeen Kelly’s poem, “The Music Lesson”