“A Peopled Field of Evenings” by L. Ward Abel

A Peopled Field of Evenings

Pitch black but for
the window lights
and stars,

old pavement tracks
clusters of living
layered

like the ghosts
we are.

Still crickets drone
Chopin bemoans
another darkening

another drawing room
lights cut-off
curtained, sealed

remote but for
barking dogs,
the owls

down my ruined road;
I’m alone in a peopled
evening field.

L. Ward Abel

L. Ward Abel's work has appeared in hundreds of journals (Rattle, Versal, The Reader, Galway Review, Main Street Rag, others), including two recent nominations for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and he is the author of four full collections and ten chapbooks of poetry, including his latest collection, Green Shoulders: New and Selected Poems 2003-2023 (Silver Bow, 2023). He is a retired lawyer and teacher of literature, and he writes and plays music. Abel lives in rural Georgia.

Headshot: Michael Turpin

Photo Credit: Staff