Life at Fenton’s Mill Near Williamsburg

We walked across the upended bricks,
Where a wigged and powdered man died of leeches,
A running boy died a roping death,
Hung down from his darkened window.
Fearing the leeches under my sheets,
I took to days with orphaned dolls,
Under trestles over creeks.
I fell to taking wide legs around the library,
Took to reading in loveseats left in the rain.
I soon set to bricking in the east windows,
Following wobbly walks twilit,
In the wood of dead & dying birds.
There’s been a baby i didn’t want.