22 Feb Pantoum In Which It’s Already Too Late by Carol Mikoda
You try to prepare for when the lake simmers, no wind or waves.
While a rhythmic pounding lurks at the edge of earshot,
the stillness drags you down into lost cities of vinegar and bone,
so you escape in your car and drive past green lakes of fallow fields.
Read "Pantoum In Which It’s Already Too Late" by Carol Mikoda
While a rhythmic pounding lurks at the edge of earshot,
the stillness drags you down into lost cities of vinegar and bone,
so you escape in your car and drive past green lakes of fallow fields.