Admit coming upon the fallen horse at evening, now asleep but withered, now reducing as you near, now
We have gone throughso many revisions of the preludethat we no longer know
On the train home, a Bluetooth in his ear, he listens to a lecture on fear and love, the four kinds, lower and higher.
[…]
They are here, in the eaves, the clothesline pole,hayloft—everywhere she looks—and everywhereshe goes they are there before her, in town
The sudden quiet of a room emptied of noise. Only the Hebrew, a stone on his tongue.
