In dusty houses
with sallow shades
past books, pictures,
of teeth, knees, hips,
skipping the charters to Branson,
writing in their journals
how the view from the end of the road
mirrors the view from the beginning:
a thoughtless line
vining to mind,
a heart of treetops,
through the floorboards.
Craig Evenson is a school teacher. His poems have appeared in such magazines as Lalitamba, Midwest Quarterly, and Common Ground Review. He lives in Minnesota.
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