April 5, 2026April Fools
the falsetto cry
of a crow father
no elegy
my hillbilly lungs
filling with fog
time to turn
the garden over
whistling
wings of a woodcock
over the graves
our pie in the sky
so full of craters
hyacinths
transplanted from childhood
that old world
forcing our way through
a forest of privet
four choppers
low over the trees
the war is here
from Poets Respond
