I sing tree, making green school after school of leaf-fish flicker between the shade and sunlight in nets of branch, urging the students to see, to see— and one says: I like the brown tree. So I look: she has conjured one of those scrawny northern cedars, arbor vitae, dead or alive, one can’t tell,…
Inside the mushroom storm clouds lean against each other emptying their insides. Blessings pour out over the tiny man on his way to work. Inside his overcoat are pockets of change, useless unless stolen away. Inside his hands he carries the shape of pockets, also the shape of a snowball with a stone hidden inside….
The race is not over, yet the prize beyond which no other exists belongs to one of us; oh do not ask what is it, is it voluminous, is it exquisite, put your hand in the cloth bag and draw. You too have been given, or will be, a parcel of absurdity: not half a…
The first time I listened to a radio my friend Pelly drowned. My family – mother, cousin Jenny, father and I – lived, quite isolated, near Paduola Lake in northern Manitoba. Jenny, a pretty five years old when orphaned over to us, had hair black as birch knotholes, and the staccato yet elegant movements of…
for Annette It’s just seven. A heavy mist hangs around the track like an old gambler with a fat wallet waiting for a first glimpse of the day’s horses. And the animals try their best to run under it, to run the memory of loss out of their muscles, just to run, as though they…
Now he is approaching her retina. Now, moving into the scar tissue impining there he announces like a conductor, the planet they will board — singular passengers crossing an infinite Atlantic with no arrows of land to crack the expanse of water — when the waves grow choppy they will lie on top deck wrapped…
He held her as she wavered and grabbed tight to the handlebars, a woman in her fifties, learning it for the first time, both of them, I was sure, in love. Watching them like that, I thought I knew nothing about love, nor how to be alone. All that spring he taught…
There goes today with its bucket of leaves, its deep blue bottomless sky, the lights switched on at dusk like wishes for night to rise. Now comes sleep and with it my father walking through aspens in Colorado, hands filled with gifts for the horses who carry him anywhere. They are not shy. They belong…
The loops of our two names are woven into a petaled, autonomous shelter. Leisure beneath the veins of the roof, thin green stalks about us. A gathering of six-legged creatures, a long-tailed ichneuman, an ant lion part of the troop. It is noon. The rest of the corps arrives, platoons and divisions, baskets stuffed with…
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