Ghost Boat

Sails quickly by the open window, a slight echo against a bottle

hung by the moon’s sickly cords to mark its passage.

Sometimes I hear voices.

The settling house always creaks, marking time invisibly, erratically.

I move about my business, unsettled.

There’s a shivering echo under the second hand …

Erotic blasphemy of its unheard anchor,

dragging across the floorboards . . .