When moving was certain
Anna pried off the old wrought iron
bell and replaced it with a ghost.
An evening echo to ring down
a thousand twilight suppers with tea
ready and tarot cards arranged
to look bleak but that only foretold
change. The pillar is empty now
but stands like a ruined landmark.
One we all drive past with a vague
sense of arrival and a shrug.

Selected byJordan Trethewey
Image credit:Kayla Maurais

Sara Clancy is a Philadelphia transplant to the Southwest.  Her chapbook Ghost Logic won the 2017 Turtle Island Quarterly Editors Choice Award and she is an Associate Editor for Poetry at Good Works Review. Among other places, her poems have appeared in Off the Coast, The Linnet's Wings, Crab Creek Review, The Madison Review, and Verse Wisconsin. She lives in the desert with her husband and daughter, their two dogs a cross-eyed cat and a 24 year old goldfish named Darryl.