after Elder Olson Six inches tall, the Russian doll stands like a wooden bowling pin. On her painted head her red babushka melts into her shawl and scarlet peasant dress, and spreading over that, the creamy lacquer of her apron. A hairline crack fractures the equator of her copious belly, that when twisted and pulled…
There are no edges to the sky. A star falls, exploding in a fountain of light near the tops of the mountains. The black Saguaros loom around us lifting their rigid, pitiful arms, and the moonlight throws their black shadows across our bodies. Standing on the desert makes me think of a glass pitcher of…
A spider floats from the apple tree With a silk thread Through air to the blossoming dogwood. The long silk, Spittle and linchpin, is cut By the wing of an evening grosbeak. Over the late lawn, Between flowering trees like blue parallel snowfields, Is a cedar birdhouse Within which a man wakes. The cut thread,…
Charlie Kelly was her eighth lover since the divorce. He was standing naked in silhouette, as slim as a stiletto in the light from the hall, rifling through the pockets in his jacket for his cigarettes. The sight of him gave Kate no pleasure. She hated the smell of cigarette smoke in her bedroom. She…
Each day, each morning, before the sun can touch one edge of anything, within the oak’s shadow an unfamiliar bird begins to sing. Against the sky, the leaves the dark has polished are now shingled like the grisaille wings of the bird, and the whole garden’s gone over with the same meticulous hand, the grasses…
Land’s cape bold as Joseph’s, colors luminous as the dreamy hem of horizon, till night falls, or rises from the inner shade of evergreens, or expands from air you just traded with local trees quick as light turns and dies. After afternoon’s omniscience from the lofty…
Upon reaching shore the nearly drowned man asserted his independence from the sea by wringing it out of his hat and hands. And then the trees standing knee to knee just beyond the strip of beach, making it narrower. And then the pieces of wreckage came in like chunks of daily mail. How distant England….
"I've decided," he says, as Deena's step brings her to the kitchen, "to take the toaster with me. Because it was my toaster, remember, and besides, you can use the oven to toast bread or muffins, or whatever you want to. It's easy, I can show you. You set it at three-hundred -" But her…
God keeps his oath to sparrows who of little love know how to starve. — Emily Dickinson 1 I’m coming, clear out. They shit on the bulb in the lamp on the ceiling until the light emerges weakly like an old man’s flashlight through spit in the frozen, icy ground in deepest winter where ten…
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