I don’t know how you got your name, little green ball of fuzz, but I like imagining you howling at the moon as you cling to the trunk of…

  The night is a secret ware— I’m sold. Its ceramic cheek browns to blue. Night-ducks un-repair the water, how I broke too its surface, not even an hour ago.…

  The compost goes to maggots, the birdbath births mosquitoes, the fig falls into your hand light as foam. Tomatoes suck the soil raw, the basil goes to seed, then…

  Half the stars we see have died. the sun bear knows this. he has read the poems. the tides may or may not be at the command of the…

  I face the clot of horizon, feet sunk deeper ++in every wake, to consider the ocean. How ++++she moves—laps forward. The whole going nowhere. Her body lifts. Foil ++from…

  I waited for the first signs of menopause to announce themselves, and as the days passed, I felt no different except in my mind, which is where all maturation…

  I won’t wish you happy an inch past New Year’s with neither of us sure how much death we’ll shovel off the sidewalk ahead. Instead, I’ll wish surprise—a cartwheel…

  why I can’t touch the blue of the sky even as it touches me, even as the trees sing: the hemlocks beat-boxing; the pines raising their resinous voices, trickling…

  in winter’s throat stuck. I am stuck in winter’s throat, the throat winter stuck me in. I am winter in winter’s throat stuck and my mother is here. winter…

  On my worst days, poetry is proof I can make everything about me: milkweed evaporating from the breast of autumn earth; the corridor of light that bursts as I…

  Is this a prayer or a small ship on the horizon? Is the water in the distance you or the ocean? (I saw your picture and it left me…

  Change my life into what exactly? There’s a yellow tree in my neighbor’s yard that split down the middle last spring from the weight of late snow. Still went…