Presence 73
morning shadows in the scarlett elf cup
–– Caroline Skanne
early May
already the bluebells
shrivelling
— Erica Ison
already
I should be up —
the weight of a cat
— Aron Rothstein
gold hair blowing
in the cold
ocean sunrise
she takes her tea
with lemon
— Ash Evan Lippert
channel marker
washed up
on the rocks
I lost my way
for a while
— Jon Hare
Feeding the Black Dog
Another day, and the snow is falling halfheartedly, like everything else. The terror of death got Dr. Johnson out of bed in the morning; Larkin, his three glasses of supermarket wine. Why continue doing this, that or the other? Why not.
homestretch
running
on fumes
— Ruth Holzer