Note from the Editors

 

   SEEING RED 

    ENDU(RED) ADMI(RED)
    DESI(RED) WONDE(RED)
    RUMO(RED) ADO(RED)
    ENAMO(RED) INSPI(RED)
    DISCOVE(RED) SAC(RED)
    HUNGE(RED) WONDE(RED)
    EXPLO(RED) FEATU(RED)
    AUTHO(RED) SEA(RED)
    DA(RED) UNCENSO(RED)
    SOA(RED) ADVENTU(RED)

 

 

    


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Prospective Ghost’s Response to the First Duino Elegy


Master, I am still looking for angels.
My pursuit brought me to my knees
under holy roofs and up Camelback Mountain
and to the pinpoint of a hummingbird’s bill.
I searched among the lonely and dumped
out trash to see the bottom of the bin.
For all that, I have not found any angels,
though my familiarity with ghosts appalls me,
particularly when I want to be noticed
as a glossy example of my generation.
When I tell the story of the staircase ghost,
I like to say it was right after a big fight
with my husband or after the doctor mistakenly read
a rare and too-far-gone tumor into my ultrasound.
Instead, the ghost appeared as a sensation
only, as it stumbled into my chest, when I
was unfocused and neither-here-nor-there.
Ghost animals skirt my ankles with flourish.
I could be in love with them or their shadows.
Lacking angels, I can sit on the ledge,
watching terror as it creeps and insinuates
into everything that is life or the world,
and how do I know if it is life or the world
I mean?  And by terror I acknowledge the beauty.
Trimming rose leaves and pulling weeds is the same
as photographing a flawless bunny drowned
in the pool, the precise oval of the bird
still on the ground under the picture window.
All of this is dancing on the wire over the edge.
If angels truly do not know if they move among
the living or the dead, that is because little
separates us from ghosts, both solitary, desperate
types, ferociously beating our chests in fear.


Luanne Castle received an MFA from Western Michigan University and a PhD from the University of California, Riverside.  She taught at California State University, San Bernardino before moving to Arizona, where she now lives with a herd of javelina.  Her poems are forthcoming or most recently published in Visions, Front Range, The Black Boot, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry.


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