Shifting Baseline theory– suddenly apathy has context; / you cannot mourn what was never potted / and sprouted / in your garden …

Smoke cloaked the sun / while fire crews in tugs / poured water onto water…

I am subsumed in a state of flow, / submerged in a fast river sluice, / waters course in laminar planes / caressing trunk and limbs…

Robins spend months / harvesting crab apples. Didn’t // they used to migrate? In February, / they think it’s spring…

He is stench of memory, collective, / he seeps in. // This frail mess can’t be shoved / through ragged time.

Ever since I hit puberty/ the moths visit me at the threshold/ of every summer…

Recess is over. The sun’s out,/ but I’ll shepherd them inside,/ close read a high modernist/ whose poems none of us likes…

There are / no snowmen / in the desert / where life is / seldom frozen ...