After Fred broke up with me,I returned to graduate schooland immersed myself in six classes,an overload, trying to heal. One sunny autumn day,I sat alone

the large jar lays beside the well of the city’s forefather …

There are at least two Machuses in heaven. Malchus according to LUke has at least two ears but no name …

First leaves of trout lily among the roots of a bare beech tree …

Against the turnings of solstice hope sprouts eternal …

Wrapped and laid beginning and end bloth and cloth birth and death …

the phone rings–my grandmother’s voice winds through static, light as the creek curling around her back porch …

It’s about us which is an empathy pronoun, replacing her and him and you and it and, praise the Lord, other.

Seventy-seven pounds of wool on that merino sheep who got lost
in the Outback.