and something blue.

I was looking for some spooky poems to put up for Halloween, and found something old and something new.

[I’m into snippeting; I hope you don’t mind]

…the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.

That’s Yeats.

Also, a snippet from a Paisley Rekdal poem, found on

They swim

the muddled air and keen
like supersonic babies, the sound

we imagine empty wombs might make
in women who can’t fill them up.

read the rest of that poem here.

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