—So I am thinking of Chinese lanterns.
—no. I mean the plant,
the orange husks.
Because I could not have them
(they were in someone else’s yard;
I was not brave enough),
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Bounded
Then, tender regard for the fawns, one large, one small. Where is their mama? Are they practicing alone?And tenderness for those raised on a con, as I was. But not […]
Beautiful Secret Something
I hold my problem. My jaw aches with it. Things end, with no regard for me.This is the way. I bake. I mend. The doe lies on the wooded hillside. […]
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