She sold birdsong at the fair...

Not so simple then to rise...

Milfoil — a thousand blades come fresh from sleep...

Bear witness to the cruel, yes. And bear witness to the cruel love that binds...

...No phalanx can hold before such anarchy.

I’ll take life neat, no chaser...

Turn our eyes to the ember risen, the ember fallen...

This morning, coyotes circled the town...

Today they are mist and familiar...

The dreams I’d left there...