And he walks all day with his family, up into the hills, for it is the time after the agave hearts and screwbeans, before the rabbit drive. And they camp in the piñon groves. His boy looks for kindling while he chooses a ready tree.
What comes over someone that they can play and sing and move from song to song like walking from tree to tree
Solemn moon between two hills, mounds of deep blue turned black by night. Along the ridge a cavalry in silhouette–
Norman Amos Sometimes Virginia Creeper, a tendril of honeysuckle or wild grape, will wind around the limb of a young hickory and, as both grow, squeeze its spiral into the wick. Old women who tap the ground before they walk, ready to rap danger on its head, tobacco farmers well-versed…
It’s cold. And while I’m better at frying chicken thighs so the skin and rosemary stick, I still haven’t bought envelopes for these postage stamps, or checked the mail for that package you sent.
On the famous path by the river, I stoop and pick up a Buckeye to keep in my pocket.
Mercers Bottom, West Virginia When he sees a shadow veer in the sky, when my TV squeaks and whirs, when we can’t sleep, we blame a bird-thing, a moth-man,
All was spiny loneliness of branch and bark, then, in an instant, all was a threat of bursting liveliness, nothing but the night’s dark blur
After Tim Barnwell’s photograph, “Emma Mills on porch with chickens, 1982” I don’t much care what they’ll think, folks who’ll see this photograph hung in Tim’s shop window, what they’ll assume about my life
We are being forced to bear the burden of dirty power for Nevada. –William Anderson, chairman of the Moapa Band of Paiutes Near the generating station Coal ash they breathe, coal ash they take in, coal ash in the water, in the air, bottom ash, fly ash,