Spring 2019

Driving Through

safe car on safe road and highway switchbacks baby girl with those gray wristbands on plastic pellet resting between tendons keeping her stomach still or at least stiller than the black car and its sticky summer seats tight gridlines on the backs of our thighs little white house peeking up…

Crow Song

Wet pavement rides the ridges up to where the forest breaks like hair when the taut newness of a scar writes that desire is black feathers caught in the heads of dried goldenrod, that grief’s blue lines run over hands and between knuckles, that death, after rain, leaks its sweet…

Invasive

What are these?” Judy asks. She bends way down, peers over the gold rims of her spectacles at something green beside the path. My eyes dash away from her, scan patch snow between silver trunks of beech and birch to find the dogs, team-digging for chipmunks by a stump. Clots…

The Hunt

When he asks “Shotgun?” it takes her a second to realize he’s not wondering where she wants to sit in the truck, but what weapon she wants to bring. Lizzie wrinkles her nose. He knows she doesn’t like guns. “Bow,” she says, and yanks on the door. She has to…