Poetry by Jessica Lee McMillan
The wind reads my turning pages white dress waving cotton and blanket flaps over dirt swallows whirr for a stint through leaves shivering silver into precise blue then skim with river wind sound reflection increasing syllables over swirls of river high biding violence over placid silt red windsocks bleached and billowing East atop burnished logs creosote and rose bush breeze wind carrying histories and cigarettes from supine figure in reverie court my nose with clipped grass where strangers lay as tossed leaves in the same whispering world