No. 8 · Crossroads
My Father Died Last Night
His body long as a casket gaunt as a heron gnarly as roots soon buried beneath the shade of a pin oak tree. My father died…
No. 8 · CrossroadsWind on Snow
Wind blows tiny ghost horses spinning in herds across white dunes left then right, zig then zag disappearing over a mound never reaching the lake beneath…