after Susan Walker in Miracle on 34th Street

In a woman’s power to bewitch the weather. In feeding a ghost back to flesh with enough candlelight, crackling vinyl, and poetry.

That the moon is an eye witnessing oceans leached of life, earth heave its battered lungs, the trauma of it all, and waiting.

In the childlike wonder of dormant dreams begging to be unstacked of brick, untangled of ivy. In the body’s ability to carry

yesterday’s fragments in the grooves of its bones. That we can choose what we leak back into the soil by how soft we love, how cruel we hate.

Prompts used (tags are the poets’ IG handles):

@angelealowes - “fragments of yesterday” @papertearspoetry - “childlike wonder” @chris_kads + @alinakay66 + @esb.poems - “dormant dreams” @rosepapercastles - “the moon is an eye” @maryoliversdrunkcousin - “‘I believe, I believe, it’s silly, but I believe.’ - Miracle on 34th Street” @elenaspoetry - “for the trauma of it all” @jasmine.s.higgins - “crackling vinyl” @libbyjenner.poetry - “covered with tangled ivy” @wildgreensmag - November Daily Words - “groove” @kaytpoems - “soft as an autumnal love” @imandq + @ml.mecham + @theincidentalpoet - “what it means to feed a ghost”