Years Later, The Sky Slopes Like a Roof

Howie Good

If we’re the sum,
as some say,

of everything previous,
why even now

we’re still climbing
the tower of bones,

mounting the twisting
staircase in silence

and then in millions,
while the duke of Auschwitz

and his lady go riding
on pale horses

under a peasant moon,
and angels with flight feathers

like long black pennants
forget what it was

they were sent to do.

Visiting the Dead
Howie Good

The gates close at 5 p.m.
It was barely noon, but already hot.
I called her name. Here, she said
and stepped out into the road.
The sun went behind a cloud.
I clicked the dead flashlight over
and over as if this time it might work.

© 2009 Howie Good. All rights reserved.
About the Author

Howie Good, a journalism professor at the State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of eight poetry chapbooks. He has been nominated three times for a Pushcart Prize and twice for the Best of the Netanthology. His first full-length book of poetry, Lovesick, is forthcoming from The Poetry Press of Press Americana.