The Jumper I first saw him as a meteor. His foot flare blazing as he fell from the helicopter. They became odd ornaments in an
All new writing is about grief. Who hasn’t, at least once, lost their way, Or lost friends, or keys? To be brief: All new writing
Same Jay Seen Twice I have not forgotten the way a bright blue jay can change a day. A month ago, he shuck down snow.
Saint of the Trees What is the proper sacrifice To please our Lord, the Saint of Trees? I asked the ferns for their advice:
Eastbourne in May We entered Eastbourne, a night-life free zone, where the benches were splintered and the beaches were stone. Residents with walkers
Cicadas I treasure what they have left behind, These bards who leave past bodies dirt-covered, Clinging, emptied, music-less, enshrined On a string as I