When my father left us, my mother became a panther, her eyes slow from medication, hunting an answer the rooms couldn’t give her. She was angry, but didn’t…
Why is it so stubbornly in winter? Drifts everywhere, salt shortage. For the men hawking roses in morning rush, nowhere to stand but the street — they’re gonna get…
They do not rest or come to Earth, neither Common Swifts nor the crescent moon in flight, but the Hale-Bopp swings near every few thousand years, and we…
The boys follow the moon still hanging early morning and don’t even acknowledge it. Seems sometimes the crows will shake up the cornstalks and John’s not stuffed with straw.…
I’m awake again 5 a.m. walking around the house again bare feet on unsealed tiles again sleep crusts eyes morning's ritual becomes clang clang putting pots away …