Einsamer Pelican
Morning comes. Then
poetry
What Leaves Us
Spring, a brittle tissue of maples
Your Neighbourhood Lives on
tense shoulders where you rise
Mojave Highway
This old false front store
Notes Toward A Lexicon Of The Language Of The Bear
In its own language its name
Leaba
You can just about manage to balance
A Week Off
My father, home from work
Your body was so heavy
Your body was so heavy
Mechanic
During the day there is work, the forcing of metal
With My Father Now and Then
Along the smaller streets, passing down through
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