Yesterday in the assembly I saw my/ soul inside the jar of the one who// pours. "Don't forget your job," I/ said. He came with his lighted// face, kissed the full glass, and as/ he handed it to me, it became a// red-gold oven taking me in, a ruby/ mi...

Song for AutumnMary Oliver Don’t you imagine the leaves dream nowhow comfortable it will be to touchthe earth instead of thenothingness of the air and the endlessfreshets of wind? And don’t you thinkthe trees, especially those withmossy hollow...

How things lie now will be undone, will reoccur. You, a surface-level archivist/ sensing all there is can be gone through. The body borne/ within its plot.From "Worm" by Gail McConnell We are all "surface-level archivists" just trying to use every...

It must have been/ the slant of the light,/ the sheer cross-grain of rain/ against the summer sun, the way the island appeared/ gifted, out of the gleam/ and the depth of distance, so/ that when you turned/ to look again,/ the scend of the sea/ had c...