Author Information
the one with the stars and the teeth
Autumn fell into the leaves
because they told me they needed more sleep.
and the cutting brings the season closer-
an admittance of the selfishness set into my bones.
perfectly quiet, in the breath between the marking and the rising,
you are there-
a dove, hovering.
even my escape into the hills is crowded by god,
and he punishes
again, again and still,
as he tears the sun from the sky,
slashing the clouds across the lake-
bellowing rain from their arms.
and I wrote your name in the mountains,
the Irish nuns told me they would pray for you.
