the telephone company ran copper under three statesto carry a voice that arrivesas a dry click in an earpiecethe signal takes the shape of the wirethis is not a metaphorthis is how transmission works ...

you are telling me about the year your father stopped drivingand my father is standing behind my tongue counting to threethe way he counted when the neighbors could hear hima reflex i was fitted with ...

a hickory handle snapped at the ferrule,greyed by three winters in the dock weeds beside it, the terracotta rimof a pot turned on its side,holding two inches of black leaf-moldand a dandelion taprootw...

the shovel snapped at the ferrule years before you got herethe blade is still half stuck in the dirtswallowed by roots that don’t know whose tool it was a cracked ceramic pot leans against the fenceso...

some nights the fire needs more attention than you have leftyou sit close anywayyour hands remember how to feed it even when your mind has gone somewhere else a coal by itself goes cold fastpush two t...