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Pruning the Prunes Tree
For years, I called it a prune tree. And my Brooks prune, once it had been in the ground a while, obligingly provided a prune nearly every August. Maybe September. One prune. It dawned on me that perhaps I should call it a prunes tree. Much more obligingly (or equally obligingly, if we follow the […]
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Detour 40
40 Three or four drops per minute, the gutter assigns a steep crescendo to the slow, picking wind. Birds give way toward midnight, daybreak, dusk, a gathered loop indistinguishable from a low cloud, a harbinger, a loom–sand-drawn footsteps knotted in something that might resemble a pattern to the right eyes. Above all, cold, and the […]