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History

Rough birds / fit this field, / starlings and crows, / their blue-black wings / against the sheen / of the week-old snow / and the metallic / stubble of corn.

Poems

— from “A Warning” | Today I feel better, because I woke thinking everything that disappears from the planet / might reappear somewhere else. The thought was grand at first.

Manifesto

In April I believe only in lilac, dogwood, and wisteria — such suddenness and color, indecency and mess, / always opening and opening, and fading, and falling away.

Meeting Father

To The One-Legged Homeless Woman In The Pouring Rain

Mud

Calligraphy

The Lake

To Say Nothing But Thank You

Ode To The God Of Atheists