The fog lifts, revealing solitary stalks coated in dew, new white ruffles draped over sleek green stems grazing the grass like a wedding gown,
for Kate Today I’ve been remembering summer squash; strawberries ripening; cucumber vines wound through chicken wire the way life and its absence are threaded
When I went out into the shed to find the shears my father had sent me to find, I also found the dark of
When they found the girl, blue faced in the green creek, no one knew her name, but the water owned her hair and ran