a snaketongue truffleclub’s blackened fork
new moon
over the Gaza strip
every eyelid
light supper
the assassin’s green
first instar
the throb
in a jewelweed blossom
birthing a fly
fog
from the noisy valley
be my ghost
tunnel vision
the darkness returning
each of our words
arboretum
catching the eye
of a rabbit
Covid notebook
all the pages abandoned
for a green stain
Dispatch from the Front
We call them invasive species now, but they didn’t ask to be brought here and planted ‘for wildlife,’ the multiflora roses, Amur honeysuckles, Russian olives, Japanese barberries…
mountaintop
learning the raven’s word
for a human
spring snow
the black dog’s irrepressible tongue
fresh snow in flyover country
nobody’s tracks
