a red squirrel raging above the grave
Month: May 2022
Jupiter and Mars
almost touching the whippoorwill
fear spiralling in my hand
In black cherry time
This is what happens as soon as I stop walking, my daily habit: I become habitat.
when did the back of my hand turn strange?
this dream of endless mountains
Why is it this year that the familiar warbler songs sound like dripping blood or fabric being torn?
What May Come
Where did it come from, this premonition that someday I will be parted from my head?
Mother’s Day: linked verse sequence
with my cellphone camera
stalking the sky
alone in the forest her green shawl
a drop of rain for each newborn leaf