Poetry Editing

I buried the sky
beneath a tree in the backyard
The sun would not mind
because it was winter then
I sat near the hole on an empty bucket
cold sleet freezing in my hair
I know all of my enemies
None at all

Not even ramen noodles for a whole week on the bucket
The steam fighting the cold

Inches of ice on roadways and walks

I hadn't seen a thing like it before

Not a single soul out for feel of falling

sliding

crashing

loosing motor control
I walked to the store anyway to buy more
I returned 

Towering sunflowers dried up

and shed their husks to keep warm

A series of mourners in the winter

feel whole and gone by the end of the season

Synthesis, the regrowth

the brightening

I haven't seen my sisters
since my family brought them from the Rouge
A strange keepsake
Their decedents have lived at my home
for as long as I have
Two families
I go outside and sense their presence
but they remain unseen

but they are very much apparent 

by the generational clues they leave behind
Nests on the fences and dead plants 

They have called Downriver home

as long as I have

18 years

[When we moved from Melvindale, my dad brought praying mantis to live in the garden. Their descendants have been living where I have for the same amount of time. In essence, we both share the same home. However, they are rarely seen. The only way you know they are around is by the nests they leave every year on the fences and plants.]

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I was not one who jumped
from the overpass into the currents
Smoke lingers in the distance
Fermi II over docked vessels
Swans,
usually seen alone
find their other halves
They sit in the open spaces
The only areas
Iridescent in sunlight
Distracted me as a kid from drawn blood
and sharp backfins
The rocks below never cracked my skull
Something protects all inhabitants here
Rickety old boards of wood and life

We built things
boats and such
Dead fish floating at the ramp
Bones and glass float like boats
Unlike the trailer
half way in the water
the time Joey locked the keys in the Aerostar
Dad had to walk us to a pub
because the marina was full of assholes
can't use the phone
can't use the bathroom
a three year old and an eight year old
one crying
the other yelling at their honest mistake
dusk came
it was evening
too late to fish
The worms all died in the heat of the car
suffocated
smelling of dirt

I know lake Erie
I grew up here
like the fishflies that covered the entire parking-lot that year
Their bodies crunched with the weight of the boat
I sat in the backseat of a truck
Uncle gene and Dad smelled like
sweat, stale beer, cigarettes
It was the only time I was ever there at night

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I walk anywhere

The bridge to nowhere

moss and graffiti

and purple winds

of martins as they circle my ankles in the grass

graceful bullets against moving targets

Feathers catch the slightest wind

I walk anywhere

Where have you been? 

Mid-summer, only arriving during the calm before the storms hit

Why hide?

Why listen to the river rush on?

Why walk down that bridge?

Boarded off at the end

"Danger" it said

"No trespassing"

What would life be without it?

Tomorrow I pour with the rain

sediments ravage my coat

such a sharp drop from the highest point

I was lying in the mud on my umbrella

until he had found me

Concrete levees flooded over

He dove against the pull

like it's force was nothing

and with a successful catch

contently let the current take him downstream