I’m sitting on the porch.—Bees out of nowhere,the UPS guy says, “It’s a swarm, scary.” First I heard them, a loud rubbing enginedusting the sky like a sunlit orb or a dark bubble lifted out of string and rubber without the oily chrome.Only blondish density, and fear, imagining I wasContinue Reading

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