The muffled sound of the fruit
as it carefully breaks from a branch,
amid the incessant chant
of the silence, deep in the woods.
Who among us hasn’t wanted to kill the sweetest thing?
To dream in your Mother Tongue / and stuffed, / consider it a success; // regardless of what it means.
Somehow the sapling bears it. Bears it and beautiful. Doubled over with its load of fresh snow. All things being in its favor today— velocity of the wind, water content of the flakes— today’s storm will not break it. But how close to the edge, the snap, the crack? What […]
The people closest to Bill Crutchlow seemed to be developing interests and relationships that he never would have foreseen even a year ago, and that ran entirely counter to his aspirations for them. His wife, Mary, an English teacher who had given up her profession to stay home and raise her children, had started selling […]