The Draft
All memories ignite, he says, recalling
the odor of accelerants and charred
friends. Yesterday I walked to the sea
and looking into its deep crush
sensed something unseen washing
out, between tides and a shell-cut foot,
sand and the gull’s drift, or the early names
I assign to faces. This is not sadness.
Somewhere the called numbers meet.
* * *
“The Draft” first appeared in Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art.
O at the Edges 
Nice post
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Thank you.
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loved hearing this
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Thanks very much, Andrew.
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Good recording. Always interesting where you pause … how that influences reception.
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Thanks, Jazz! I read aloud while writing, which helps frame the writing. But of course pauses change from reading to reading, sometimes deliberately, sometimes not. It’s interesting to see how one brief pause can affect perception.
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love the delivery on the audio
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Thanks very much, Sean.
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