One year I knocked you out of the air into the river with my fishing net. Another, you swept through lunch but didn’t come back. There was the time you bit me and I sent you off to the CDC and you came back positive. I live with part of you inside of me, for […]

Oliver Round’s wading boots grip granite flat-topped like slate. My black Lab, Sadie, keeps quiet, a great blue heron roosting on the deadfall by the frozen pond. I only dream of my friend’s fishing. The heron crouches while dog and I trudge snow toward the medical building in zero-degree dark. Oliver hunkers, casts. With a […]

For James and Ryan Wicks The widow sold the bag of them for 20 bucks. They were laid next to her dead husband’s creel and automatic reel on the table in the yard. One gallon of black buggers for a night of tips seemed like a steal but what more

Sunlight hit the face of my face,  searching for old ways  to make me new again…