Doing That Thing to the Field; There Came a Point in the Brutal Winter; Aubade with Bird; A Translation of Frogs

Doing That Thing to the Field   Fog lies down on a field though it’s   not the field sleeping. Maggot and leaf worm fury all night. Early light   is a dust-up of light. And the fog,   to insist like that isn’t cloud, isn’t heaven come to earth no matter   what it […]