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Year With Ghosts

An island-sized trunk
pumped and silent for times
when enough is said
until someone else comes along
and asks more questions
same questions from a new flesh
new in situation
seasoned everywhere else
in body
stained and worn with moments of
good looks.

Looking back
at a well worn lot.

What more can be said about the New York School?
Paintings plenty
paint moves
at a pace I can know.
Imagine movement
inside of placement.

I did,
while I ate grains with personable birds
in the garden that once centered Füller’s dome.
A garden fringed by frightened folk
whom silenced ghosts
until now.

'We are back,' my living friend said.