I only promise the little things. The big things don’t pay attention to what I want anyhow.
she sang like snowflakes on my tongue, bright & sharp with the forgotten promises of spring
My uncle Obert had only 3 fingers on his left hand. He lost the others during corn planting one spring. My fingers are buried out in these fields somewhere, he used to tell us & I check for them every summer to see if they’ve sprouted yet. I asked him once what he’d do if … [Read More]