Orange River – xi

I’ve aged even in dreams.But not you, my boundless soulso alluring in your constancy, turning toward mewith the expression  of a college love I’d nearly forgotten, turning in orange light with one shoulder to the shadow of your back room.In my sleep  the dead come to...

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January Light

The things I’d never liked,like winter light in January,the long cold wasted afternoonstoo bright upon the scumbled cusp of December’s woodedgrays and greens—to slowly come to like such things,how much richer they seem for their unexpected seduction,like bitter...

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