windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

green

just left portland or
more than a week of spring rain
makes the heart grow fond

drizzle

this spring, the trees I
don’t know the names of have the
most beautiful shapes

gold

younger cousin to
older cousin at dinner
“you’re part grownup, right?”

to portland

caring, as we do,
we need to grumble a bit
before our long trip.

afternoon

a coyote is shot for eating one cat, a cat

that killed but didn’t eat several songbirds.

what did i do to make it so, and what

do I want to be doing when i die?