C.R. Garza
The ghost of my right arm
appears in the sleeve
my wife daily folds up
and pins against
the stump
of my right shoulder.
The pin hardly
makes a sound
as it hits the floor
of the back porch.
The sleeve falls
empty, ready,
creased and
light as ribbon.
An evening breeze
lifts the cuff onto my wife's
shoulder, so my arm
slides out from the dark
of its burrow, and my hand
reaches her shoulder as
the trees begin
to sway.
Location: New Haven, Conneticut Email: Yalie03@hotmail.com Publications: Stirring V2:E9 Other: Poetry Editor of The Rose & Thorn Literary E-zine
