Décolletage

Say it: a robber in the neighborhood
has stolen your conscience. A train
makes its way, steel and tarry ties.
The trestle rumbles under a barren sky.
It is daybreak in the moonshine.
The still burps satisfaction and soldiers
have abandoned their regiments.

Come home to find courage.
Every day is antebellum somewhere.
There's a noose swinging, windsock
horror and mama curls her child's
neck against her thigh.
Say it: these ghosts may not rise
against the bars of our chests.