Sunrise on the Atlantic. Birds untangle from trees, houses coming into view, rail tracks, sand and gravel, the blue depot. The coyote is back
After “Fog” by Ruth Madievsky slinking its way across screens, grain slowly swallowing the light. Static over skin, the shiver carrying a cold rush
She tells again how we’d put on Sunday school clothes and walk into town, crossing railroad tracks that stitched a black seam next to