Poetry
Winter 1980
Patchwork
When you unfurled that quilt, tremendous as weather over your minuscule living room, I traced the arabesques and stars, the braille of the meticulous stitch my fingers were too blind […]
Poetry
Winter 1980
An Afterthought
By August, the clay was harder than the roads. When you drove off, I’d crouch in the strange noon exhalations of tomatoes and marigolds, chiseling at weeds. Nothing, it seems […]