The muffled sound of the fruit
as it carefully breaks from a branch,
amid the incessant chant
of the silence, deep in the woods.
1908
Further Reading
LOVERS IN WINTER by Steven Klepetar
You can tell they are saying goodbye that distance has already swallowed them up, by the way they linger on this cold beach, bare feet stung by the rag end of waves. She is weeping and he would if he could. The wind must sound lonely to them and the hungry gulls a provocation about […]
Cities and Years by Frederick Pollack
1 I seem to live on and on. Perhaps I should make more of an effort. But while I still hobble— rather like Chaplin, that first angel of popular culture to descend to us— I’m included in groups like this. And group photos, once we have crossed the quadrangle of whatever college this is. (It […]
Twasday
by Jillian Weise
The first time I slipped between Tuesday and Wednesday, into a Twasday, I saw Amy. She was wearing her tattoos again. I had not seen her in years. She asked me to help her build a casket. She had the hammer and nails. The saw was lying on the ground next to a plank of […]
