ant5

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sick with stories

I listen to fog

move through grass

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recriminations

the moon burns

through the fog

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the steam

from the kettle

a confluence of streams

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cubes

of light

in the fog

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don’t worry

that’s just willow

looming in the fog

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for once

my colon

makes me happy

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from afar

pyramids of oranges

line the road

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freezing fog

grease on the pump

warm to the touch

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leaden fog

purple buds

on the rosemary

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it’s not

the hinge creaking

late night frog

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