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Ella I

Oh, I want to do my hair as if it’s 1945,

the way that Ella did her hair

when Ella was alive.

I have this photo in the kitchen

in her makeup, still a kid.

Oh, I want to do what Ella did.

Sleep with shoes under the bed and a flashlight there beside.

Check the camera for the man who came to the yard last night.

In the darkness, how the windows show inside from both sides.

In the dream he’s coming through the window frame

Where to hide? Too late to call or run away

Oh my god, he’s calling for you by your name!

When the morning dream is over the camera pings again,

but this time it is the grackle that came to steal the egg.

Morning sky-reflected window, a bird flies to its death.

Take the body, mark it with a little stone

Read the poem Karin sent about the boat

Oh my god, the veil is thin and here’s a hole!

And you always call on Ella, though Ella isn’t here.

On your side it is a mirror, on hers the glass is clear —

or is it just imagination that makes a sign appear?