I’ve seen these two before, or so I’d like to think, little buddhas hunched up on a maple branch waiting out the weather, today’s
The images are like old friends I no longer have enough in common with. “Three-sweatered like a crusted pine,” “The fisherman scent of imagined
The moon is small tonight, lemon-shaped. Earth is prisoned in white; the pane is cold, shutters cold, sky black. It is as if ice