The Onion Mountains
At the foot of the mountain we found the trail followed
poetry
Cape Enrage
Only a picture from a blue tin box.
What Stopped Me
I closed Tolstoy's War and Peace, left behind
The Cherry Tree
A distant train reminds me of other journeys
Stand by
Waited while they de-iced the plane. Waited while the flight crew struggled
What remains
Not the banged ear but tiny, delicate
Gruff and brown, my father
Gruff and brown, my father speaks
Mysophobia
the harvest is generous
Siderodromophobia
a sour blast of its horn
Demonophobia
birds line the trees at dawn
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
