There Used to Be Four Children There

I killed some in the dream.
In the dream there were dead.

In the dream there was a house,
there were children,

siblings. In the dream
I burned the house to gold.

I knew it for my own, that house,
it knew us for each other’s.

It was gold, so we were golden.

Along this path returning.

I am ever returning.
The dead, newly dead, long dead,

the fading before us dead. Please
don’t be dead.

Don’t be inside
the house. Again again,

amen amen: I kill something
I only know how to dream.

This is a reprint of work originally published in Court Green as ‘Favorite (Track #4)’.

Recent work by A. E. Clark has appeared or is forthcoming in Mid-American Review, Rust + Moth, Menacing Hedge, and Witness. Her chapbook Addresses Home is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press (2015). Her website:

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