Cooking by Waters: An Anti-Elegy; Another Breakup

Cooking by Waters: An Anti-Elegy   The birch’s skin curls up like an ancient letter. The sweet smoke makes my breathing harder. On a streamside fir goldfinches teeter. Late sun makes a tumult on their feathers. It’s an hour before the hermit thrush has begun. I accept the tart gift of the weather in fall. […]