So many haunted lives.

Holger Droste, photographer
Raindrops like teeth, the enamel of god.
A horse of lightning. A tractor of thunder.
The muddied boots of the children,
Waiting forlornly by the front door. A wet winter,
Here to move water back to the earth, and back to the ocean.
You can cry or laugh or find a drum to pound.
You can catch a bus to Dayton or Tulsa.
This isn't…
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