blown in blown down, the sky about to empty all that necessary difficulty & you
Mister White-Throat
busy getting under with scratch & back-in scratch & study & nib for nab–
there’s snow to come there’s snow to come–a handsome fact felt in the bone–when was Canada or Iowa or Nebraska–why the front stoop of Here?
I’m grateful for your visit, your uncentering of this place–no, your uncentering of me–it welcomes & opens & hopes you rode out the storm
false crabapple 