I lean against glass – the storm door crashes!
Shatters on my uncle’s floor and smashes
an opening to pure sunshine, blue sky,
and men who think I should pay to fix it.
I land in a stone Thanksgiving mansion
of banquet halls in the Eschol Valley
surrounding me with something like the sea.
I can’t find the banquet hall meant for me.
While I wait, I eat from plates of others,
burnt offerings that taste sweet in a dream.
A forgotten friend finds me, and we climb
mountains encircling this Promised Land.
I gaze at the dappled heavens and feel
a levee holds back something like the sea.
Mike Wilson’s work has appeared in many magazines and in Mike’s book, Arranging Deck Chairs on the Titanic. His awards include the League of Minnesota Poets Award, the Maine Poets Society Award, and the Chaffin/Kash Prize of the Kentucky State Poetry Society. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky
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