SONG IN WALTZ TIME Over there sleeps a grief. She calls out names at night. She’s dreaming your release, but her hand holds on tight to your soul, like a child and her blanket. She smiles. She turns over. You stay too close. You turn back, like you do every day, forgetting she’s a fact. She’ll always call your name. She won’t renounce her claim. Go ahead, smile at her sadly—that’s not a choice. Light as a gold feather, she’ll tickle out your voice. Leave her there, let her sleep. You’ll wake her if you weep.
Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in southern California. His latest poetry collection, Roshi San Francisco, was published by Norfolk Publishing. Starting from Tu Fu was published by Encircle Publications. He is fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Miles Davis, Kafka and Dante. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the activist. Joan Juster where he made his living pointing out pretty things. Now, like everyone else, he’s unemployed. He has published 2 novels and three chapbooks and two full length collections so far. Titles on request.
Grand Little Things 