Lands End
At the lands end
there exists a spirit
that whistles
un-melodically
through tall firs
and leafy alders.
The spirit howls
like a puppy left
too long alone.
and you can see it.
It rises off the swamp
like the evaporation
of morning dew in June.
The nearest neighbor said,
the day i moved into
the old farm house,
that the Farmingtons
covered an ancient
burial ground with swampy water.
Under the harvest moon,
angry ghosts kill calves and
steal golden grain
off corn stalks in the field.
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