Month: November 2024

November first putting my skeletons back in the closet

fresh snow on old our argument resumes  

nightly news between my neighbour and me a higher fence

moss the quietest of revolutions

peeling an apple — the sudden twist in my destiny

war-zone dawn the out of place pink  

Cusp I awake in the dark of a strange room. My first time back to this country in years. A plane rumbles above. The window is where the door should be. My body and mind are

a mural we won’t see again airport sunrise  

coral clouds— each blink of jet lights recolors the sky

weekend getaway my cat packs himself

walking by the old house — our buried dog flowering  

hospital receptionrosy clouds driftin a painting  

rootbound— the new treatment stops working

brain cards i shuffle the fog

time enough to listen to a joke senior center  

the lure of you . . . driving the coast road home

strawberry rhubarb some marriages just work

berry picking our conversation

family cookout she swallows a sharp retort  

one dessert two forks all the wrong turns turning out right