Wildwood # 3 Poem by James McLain

Sarah has wandered off again, today it is raining,
The flies are bad.
This dream if a dream it is, is just as bad so I look back at night,
As if today it is.
Some wet brain homeless man last night tried to blow up
His room next door to me, but now he's gone.
Gone as does the mist that hides the sea and white foamed waves
That have long since a blanket wet have covered me.
Around the door that's not a house the ground is full of phlegm,
The kind that flies can walk across as he once did.