MIXED BREED

The Red Sea winds, breathless and cheerful, through Addis Ababa
Skip and stutter dust into dancing, much like the Ethiopian in me, while
Penitent breezes cross marsh in O'Gregory county, a shear, creaking voice,
Like ghosts tapping, hell-bent on visiting kin, so like that Irish in me, while
A girl clutching a chicken by its feet, limp as a failed prayer, scorches her lover's
Ear with a breath in passing on the street, a lot like the Puerto Rican in me, while
Dew from the hands of an eastern pine signs one Book of Sorrows,
Its pages, white as beaver teeth, and lost, -- just like this Seminole in me.

Michael Gregory's first book The World Abandoned by Numbers won a King County Arts Commission Publication Award. He works as a deputy clerk for the U.S. District Court.