Gun shots. Wrecked cars splayed across roadways. Unwashed girls
showing off skin. Dickens walks night after night in my little city,
unerringly finds the worst parts of town. I see him-- duplicitous, curious,
generous—brush the curls from foreheads and cheeks. Touch hands
like a father, like a son. Spoiled, hunted, he wipes his eyes. Walks toward
a flickering gaseous light. Squares his shoulders. Takes me by the hand.
Barbara Daniels’ book Rose Fever was published by Word Tech Press and chapbooks Black Sails, Quinn & Marie, and Moon Kitchen by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press. Her poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Mid-American Review, and elsewhere. She received three fellowships from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.