Poetry
Winter 1996
Bat
1. The cooling air grows more dense where my eyes meet the treetops, but I know that this is time, not color, directing me along the curving sky toward another […]
Poetry
Winter 1996
This Dusk
A serious face pocked with square pores, The forked sideburns, cheeks candied with rouge: My neighbor runs from her car to unlock the door. Dusk after rush hour making headway, […]
Poetry
Winter 1996
So Wise
for Andy Last night I opened up Rilke And found a photograph of you. After considering the picture— A close-up of your face, eyes shut, Hands almost grazing your temples, […]