Hermes of the Ways –H.D.
And Life Goes On As It Has Always Gone On – Diane Lockward
Snow and then more of it and just when spring
seems possible, a blizzard leaves you powerless.
Your flowers in bud expire.
Children ring your doorbell and disappear.
There were uncounted millions of the beasts—hundreds of millions,
we forced ourselves to believe.
—Frank H. Mayer, The Buffalo Harvest
I can’t force myself to believe in any old
——————-almanac, that the best days for fishing
—–will come mid-March, that fog in January
——————————brings a wet spring.