The hare crosses each lost cantref
of Scotland hedgerow by hedgerow.
Every parish she encounters
leap by leap dissolves below
her movement over time. She lopes
Aaron Krol – The Word
A branch fell on the chicken shed
like you said it would, last night’s storm
bearing down on the woodwork where
your family let stand the rot.
So your aunt calls. Makes you find
a way to say No. I’m sorry.
lying down at dark,
my waking fits your sleep.
Dan Beachy-Quick–Some Consequences of the Made Thing
The End. Above these words the sky closes.
It closes by turning white. Not
The white of all clouds or being within a cloud.
White of worldless light. The End.