By Teresa McLamb Blackmon

Waiting for the spotted dog beside me
to be gone, skinless bones buried
under yard trees in perfect grass
we mow and mourn.

Waiting for the father down the road
to finish his fit, at 87,
draped in a flag, tagged out
as if in a game of catch.

Waiting for endings of all beginnings
to wrap our lives in
garments whole and safe as armor,
shielding from the naked chill of loss.



About the Poet: Teresa McLamb Blackmon is a retired high school English teacher who spends her time on the farm with adoring animals. She graduated from NCSU in 1984 with a MA in English. She graduated in 1995 from NCCU with an MLS. Her poems have been published in “Toasted Cheese,” “Absinthe,” “The News & Observer,” “Poet Lore,” Nochua Review,” “Cellar 101 Anthology,” “From the Edge Review,” “Floyd County Moonshine,” “Main Street Rag,” and “Olive Press.”