Black Oak

I still see your slack body
hanging from our favorite tree
in that park on the corner.

Twelve summers passed
with no spark of your face.

Three-thousand miles traveled
to a different life absent
of your Portuguese whispers.

In the middle of the night
with streetlights beckoning
and silence pasted to the air,
you rise like mist.

Aleathia Drehmer is the editor of the print microzine Durable Goods and the online flash fiction site, In Between Altered States. Her latest collection of poems is called You Find Me Everywhere from Propaganda Press.