The plane trees quiet as a funeral; your lifeless body posed like a Pompeii corpse waiting for the ash-coffin. The rain clouds wore the
A group of boys with bats beat a porcupine to death one twilight at the campground out West while I huddled in my tent
So long ago, it’s almost like we dreamed it, that red-haired girl fell through the ice at Stetson Pond the year we were