Sunday Baroque – Ryan Clinesmith
The silhouette of a ridgehalf-clouded by morning fogmakes me think of scorched grass in early fallhemmed by leaves turning so fastI can watch them redden, change like corn or bamboo,——the mind toowatching white-blossomed oregano, bees, flying ants, a moth,it’s only when they’ve all flown offthat the signs of endings becomeContinue Reading