Stories
One Wheel
What I Could Hear
Winter Story
Sick with the Sun

Poems
What to Say
Home
Jealousy
Wake
Hiking a Mountain...
North for Winter
When I love you...
Induction
Poem
Dusk
Seven Hours
The Morning After
Learning to Drive
Place of White Plains
Green on Blue...
The First Time...
How I Am
For hours...
Enter June dusk...
Inside

Place of White Plains

A field stone breaks the view
of distant mountains. Beyond the hills
I live in a homeless town held to the valley
like soup in a spoon—everything of life
has been carried to a point and forgotten, or else
lifted in the air above a cliff then set back
to rest in banks of snow.


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