Nov 4, 2023 | Fiction, Poetry
When I open my walletto show my paperspay moneyor check the time of a trainI look at your face.The flower’s pollenis older than the mountainsAravis is youngas mountains go.The flower’s ovuleswill be seeding stillwhen Aravis then agedis no more than a hill.The flower...
Jun 6, 2020 | Non-Fiction, Travel |
In a stretch of comparative quiet, by a shore of white sand, a bird I recognized at once was wading carefully in the shallows: rook-size, it was brown all over, but its head was remarkable: a big broad bill balanced by a triangle of crest projecting from the back gave...
