Back Cove
The cordgrass blurs to gray suggestion.Eiders merge—dark smudges on darker water.The cove’s edge wavers, uncertain. I know the herring gull is thereby sound: the measured drop and crack,shell against rock,…
The cordgrass blurs to gray suggestion.Eiders merge—dark smudges on darker water.The cove’s edge wavers, uncertain. I know the herring gull is thereby sound: the measured drop and crack,shell against rock,…
I was going out the back door of the hall,into the sugar pine evening air,after my talk on familyand poetry. Someone had askeda question about loyaltyand decency. And up untilthis…
Wait no I haven’t—I haven’t seen anyone because the forests are on fire and I have asthmaI’m allergic to grass, to pavement, to microplastics, to being perceived,to most plants, to…
It’s hard for me to dance—my hoof-foot’s from a dairy cow,ankle from the farmer’s neighbor three years later. Funny story,tell you when we’re not drowned out by surging bass. My…