White rose in November blooming
as if you cannot wait for the snow, as if you open wide to remind us that November holds both …
as if you cannot wait for the snow, as if you open wide to remind us that November holds both …
Is it a wonder that I am more drawn to watching the birds flit than to reading your words, again? …
Stones are easy to stack when they have been split and sanded. The challenge is to balance uneven ones, those …
Does it startle you, shake you from oblivion, draw you to attention, to your fear? Or do you turn away …
How the rain pours down with heavy boots on our roof. We hover close to our papers someways happier for …
Upon opening The Way It Is after a week that convinces me that this dark marathon is much longer than …
Dusts of snow edge the earth, uneven lines mark sun-warmed pavers. With under-parts protected, statuary gather new relief, dying grasses …
waves roll in, tossed over themselves by November winds that scrape surface up and over, up and over, coil under …
how it is our first and final loss how it is always here and not here how the way I …
Open spade cleaves mud, unwraps under-earth’s treasure-trove — twisted wires of plant roots clinging deep, no repentance, no shame. I …