a red squirrel raging above the grave
Category: forest
millipede
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.
rain crow
when did the back of my hand turn strange?
green again
this dream of endless mountains
Sacrificial
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
spring azure
with my cellphone camera
stalking the sky
lady’s-slipper
alone in the forest her green shawl
cowbird song
a drop of rain for each newborn leaf
such greedy
red appendages born-again maple
waning moon
the angels didn’t fall they were pushed
