Poetry Subscriber Only

Manny’s Farm


  Across the fields the ghosts came walking, fainter now, translucent in the half light of winter, opening their mouths.   The farmhouse stood on a hill, doors half-canted, drunkenly unhinged. The windows, having lost their lights,   let in the grit of snow. On the frozen fields, stalks shook like spears thudding fallow ground, […]

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