a plate, empty stems
the grapes plucked, chewed, and swallowed
now I sit with loss. Continue reading →
From the creek’s dark slash Following hidden shoreline Ghosts of warmer days. Another minus seven or eight day.
the minus seven •
slashed at my fingers today •
put hands in pockets. Continue reading →
snow leaning against •
bush, fence, tires, front steps and door •
silently leaning. Continue reading →
interior forest •
trees too thick to view the truth •
I can’t understand. Continue reading →
There’s nothing like drawing a thing to make you really see it.
