Tag Archives: a weekk of poems

A week of poems: Sugar Magnolia Wilson’s ‘Town’






In the small town with

the grey clouds like

quiet dogs


on the veranda with our

feet up watching ghosts

in the old corner garden

where the oleander dips deep


I am myself and not myself

again and again and again

until you find me through

the small water in my wrist


the channel where the darkest

fish run to the lake in my palm


It is raining.


You hold my arm there, on

the Formica-topped table

with more gravity than a

metal earth


softer than a soft sea.


I am yours driving down and



homing around and around

and back again.


┬ęSugar Magnolia Wilson