where the skin grows thin a sharp moon pokes through bare branches
(First published in Heliosparrow.)
where the skin grows thin a sharp moon pokes through bare branches
(First published in Heliosparrow.)
and woke. At the forest’s center parting branches
I believe the lie a plastic bag caught in bare branches
old branches tipped with light green every part of me goes for a stroll
branches just budding saying hello though I didn’t mean to
bare branches the house that celebrated every holiday
bright spots on the branches the last drops of rain hold on
the branches darken on every corner a murder
light snow on thin branches I catch and release the fly