Winter Kill
It is 4 a.m.,and a black dog breakscrust on old snow – stumbles.And a full moon loomsto reveal just easta crackling of limbs felledby gathered frosts and westa barn owl…
Poetry by Devon Brock
It is 4 a.m.,and a black dog breakscrust on old snow – stumbles.And a full moon loomsto reveal just easta crackling of limbs felledby gathered frosts and westa barn owl…
To give us naught but bleak display,To say, to say,Love has never tethered moonThat way,That heather never blooms but braysTo drop the stars in sage and grays. And in this…