Life 101

i. see her there that wide open tree out my window the one with gray arm branches, no leaves, and peeling bark? holding divine moss in perfectly twisted hands? the one that all the flickers love? I am breaking, she says, just breaking. ii. Here in this valley between...

Refugees

Since the inauguration two weeks ago, I’ve been having nightmares. I was too freaked out to share them, until I read Sherman Alexie’s new poem Autopsy about his dream that his passport was bleeding. Thank you, master poet. For sharing your pain. I woke up...

In Saying Goodbye

I found a perfect dead bird on the deck, outside the window victim of violence a deceptive white light through too-big windows his perfectly groomed feathers grew darker as they moved from his pale yellow-gray head to his almost black tail I spent yesterday willing...