January 1, 1984
The Pillow
The bear in his heavy fur rises from the bed. The extravagant one he has left behind murmurs … Or is murmured … Words barely heard. Your face shines to […]
January 1, 1984
The House
My father and I set up walls and roof. We set the joists, the floor plates, the two-by-fours, lifted the rafters on pulleys, roofed it. And his unsteady grief left […]
January 1, 1984
Black Tree Trunks
I stand at the window, as the snow falls. It swirls around, almost blocking out the trees. The bark facing the storm goes entirely white. What faces us looks darker […]
January 1, 1984
Ferns
It was among ferns I learned about eternity. Below your belly there is a curly place, ferns that hide deer, and I have learned to love the curve that the […]
January 1, 1984
The Way He Turns
Once I loved you only a few minutes a day. Now it is smoke rising, the mushroom left by the birch, the horse’s forefoot, the way the minnow stirs silver […]