Poems by Christopher Greer

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by Christopher Greer

From Canary Summer 2017

Christopher lives in the Upper Chattahoochee Watershed along with millions of other transplants from all across the world.

Sometimes I stop to watch her daily
suffrage unfolding in ripe-shiny rays of

evening’s fading sovereignty. A scarlet
mark, stone-sleek and stark against her

glossy-bodied blackness, betrays her
given nature. She rarely knows I’m

there—between the beam-jamb space, along
the side shed wall, in a corner where

forgotten things retreat to rust away,
collecting dust as time continues. Crusted

leaves, autumn’s latest sweet debris, lie
foundering inside the preying place, entangled

in her chaos, along with mangled would-be
fathers and remains of misled wanderers.

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