By Ishmael von Heidrick-Barnes
INVITATION
A white shirt
dangles from the window
a suitcase
waits 20 years to be loaded into the car
No magnetic
sense of direction
just unread signs
The gold hand
knocks
until rust shuts it down
Abandoned nature
claws through walkways
climbs walls
Never stops
asking us to dance
on mountains of elevated mantle
seesawing Black Pines