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seasons

Styles of Eating

She’d gathered ramps in the woods, although she found them
A hyperbole of the food world, an over-priced scallion

With a finish of garlic scapes. But finding them in the forest,
He thought, and picking them with her strong hands,

Brother Sun, Sister Moon

At Alice and Henry’s farm, it is time to mate the sows. Henry even bought a home pregnancy test for them—it is inserted into the vagina and simply beeps, with maddeningly little explanation, if it judges them to have conceived.

Haibun: Spring

Spring turns to summer, hopes fly high. A golden romance—in my bloody fists I smell osmanthus flowers. Under the pulped sun, lovers grow young and younger.

The Cycle

Dark water, underground, Beneath the rock and clay, Beneath the roots of trees, Moved into common day, Rose from a mossy mound In mist that sun could seize. The fine rain coiled in a cloud Turned by revolving air Far from that colder source Where el [...]