Poetry
Summer 1990
For Lily
Every hot, waspdriven, sad summer night, I think of the dog we called Lily, who appeared one day, torn, half-starved, at our back door. Mange-withered and flea-sucked, she turned to […]
Poetry
Summer 1990
The World Rising as a Mirror (sunrise through the window, October, 1988)
Bloodorange and tear-clarity. Tell me where it ends, cirrus-touched body starting out of sleep skin littered with what has died and what will die- I forget where I begin. I […]