sometimes the ectoplasm glittered as I drifted

recalling the phosphorescent midnight lagoons

Panama’s Cuna Indians sliced through in canoes

when I was an Army brat, I remember them also drinking

bowling alley beers, shooting hoops in the Air Force gym

we were beautiful, I think, gliding towards the rim performing

our dances in the body, voyaging to discover

anything we could love, in whatever waters

Mark Jackley lives in northwestern Virginia in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. HIs poems have appeared in Fifth Wednesday, Sugar House Review, The Cape Rock, Natural Bridge, Cottonwood, and other journals. His book of poems Many Suns Will Rise was recently published by Main Street Rag.