Bees

Beesin the ear­ly fall­while the bees clean house,I con­jure a moon that­tastes of fire­weed honey,sweet on the tongue­and slow on the fingers,it climbs high behindthe hick­o­ry tree and hangs in the top­most branch­es. Published on The Laundry Line, April 1, 2025

Anticipation

AnticipationThe man in the moon is sit­ting in his bathtub.His wash­cloth in his hand,he is scrub­bing his left heel.Because tomor­row, he has a date with that skin­ny barista from Ashtabula.Who is sit­ting on her front porch,rocking slow­ly away from Ohio.Looking at him and won­der­ing ifshe should make a wish. Published on The Laundry Line, 11 …