One Halloween, I put on a white sheet with a blue line down the center
When it’s time to wither
Mother, pour apples in my mouth
Witching Hour
The dark stills beneath a wafer of moon.
House lights switch off, and the fence line reveals
Heavy Rain
My heart has been called
a most infinite black hole—not
in emptiness but constant
Signed Edition
it’s happened this way
since I was born
Rachel, at the Restaurant
Late August. The kids were heading back.
Two to college, one to high school.
We were taking them to dinner at a place
by the inlet,
Will-O’-The-Wisp
Being a Marsh baby, every summer day is swallowed
