Old elm (revised)
Abandoned farmhouse, graying outbuildings. In your final winter, you stood with empty, cracking branches to tell us plain that your …
Abandoned farmhouse, graying outbuildings. In your final winter, you stood with empty, cracking branches to tell us plain that your …
I no longer trust myself having searched all morning for the missing piece in our endless jigsaw and come up …
Dust stirs as I walk to your door, hat by my side. Long pond lies still, weeds bending, expectant. How …
It is a miracle that you survive day after long day in the cold, under rain, through whining wind. Once, …
I wish you could spread in that restless, vindictive, ambling way — to not be held back, to spew spores …
How you pull me down and up at once. In you I see ancient, raw days when I brought something …
Even the meek swell with water running down. Come now, spill yourself into our long water. Let it trail you …
It does not seem fair in all the measures of life that our heavy ways hang in expectance on these …
Slowly, slowly life comes back. Hair-fine roots far below the surface muster a wiggle, a stretch, and stir for us …
Even as you sit smoking weed in the room I just cleaned and leave your papers and dirty dishes on …