The
Shrubs of Doubt Were Misplaced
Still,
the dogs watch me from behind
a
fence when I walk the opposite route–
against
traffic on Gross Street–
the
view changes enough to convince
me
I am in a different place in my life
with
its industrial constellations,
a
parking garage sparkling with hovering
hospital
lights while skeleton neighbors
decorate
homes for Halloween and blue
jays
all seek a different weather. Maybe
October
chill has knocked a new belief
into
my teeth. Brick by brick I walk
by
buildings of my past that survived
into
the current, too, and a leaf
from
an unseen tree floats
onto
the chest of my charcoal
jacket.
I pin it there
for
the days I will forget.
James
Croal Jackson
James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. His latest chapbooks are A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023) and Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022). Recent poems are in Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Little Patuxent Review, and The Round. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. (jamescroaljackson.com)