Malaika King Albrecht

 

 

 

 

Giving the Ghost his Due

 

 

 

You can have the windows glaring at the city street

if I can have the trail leaning towards the creek.

 

You can have the pigeons, the concrete, the streetlights,

the bars, if I can have the hawks, the dirt, the stars.


I’ve taken the whippoorwills, the doorknobs and night,

you’ve packed your high road, high tide and high time.

 

I’m leaving you the last stand, the last dance,

the last word.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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