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 . . .