Static / Michelle Castleberry

You burst in full of hot laughter frosted 
in the night air. Frozen stars lit the crow-wing 
shine of your head. When you shook snow 
from your shoulders I remembered my father. 
Some nights he brought rain home in his hair. 
His kisses glazed my forehead with cool shine 
while I counted goosebumps into sleep. 

A tiny blue spark licked from your fingers 
to the doorknob. We both squealed at the snap.
 As you leaned in for a kiss I thought 
I smelled ozone, tasted tinsel. Shivered. 

Every night since I have put on wool socks, 
the green Shetland sweater you like,
and the knit cap you left behind.

 I have walked heavy and slow, dragging 
your absence along the carpet,
then gathering you up again with 
each electric nip at the door.

(previously published on


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James jones said...

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