Poetry
Autumn 1988
Outliving My Son
For you who preferred order to everything, slipping down at midnight to whisper that the guppy had babies and we are up constructing a divider so she can’t eat them, […]
Poetry
Autumn 1988
Balm
Take an autumn walk, a man and a woman stepping their points along the path, attempting balance, ignoring the small wind rising in their breath. Take one slipper of witchweed, […]