At the Plantation
The clank of key in lock has quieted,
tumblers stilled, except when visitors
demand a show. The keeper, dispirited
by vapid questions, shrugs and then demurs.
These halls still echo, struggle bouncing from
tapestries and panels lustered brown
with years. Full reckoning may never come —
the screaming children will not settle down.
Some eyes examine ballrooms, counting seats
reserved for wedding guests, and others look
for cobwebs, stains on floors, abandoned sweets:
scrubbing darkness from each storied nook.
The ghosts are silent here, tears never seen.
They pray for lightning, matches, gasoline.
John T. Glover is a humanities librarian at Virginia Commonwealth University, where he works with the Creative Writing program and serves on the Cabell First Novelist Committee. He often panels at the James River Writers Conference and has served on their Board of Directors. His poetry has appeared in Goblin Fruit.