I took some kids on a walk, looking for signs of winter. Katie pointed out my purple velvet scarf which I only wear when it’s cold, Sarah pointed out that all the leaves were on the ground (not in the trees where they belong), Dominique showed us the ice crystals in the mud we were stepping over, and while Danielle and Kathy were breathing clouds since there were none in the sky, Kanika lightly tugged on my jeans and said, “Don’t worry, the grass is still green.”
—Lee Anne

 

song of the varying circle
(for charlotte)

you & i
are mostly
lightening & wind

you & i
are mostly
stillness & shuffling

you & i
are mostly
transparencies & cement

you & i
are mostly
consumated & vanished

you & i
are mostly
splendor & emptiness

you & i
are mostly
obsession & insomnia

you & i
are mostly
reflection & disappearance

you & i
are mostly
exclamation & parentheses

you & i
are mostly
vertigo & grace
you & i
are mostly
rebirth & the burning ghat

you & i
are mostly
the autumn sunflower
& the tip of the anti-christ’s tongue

you & i
are mostly
the dust of impossible dreams
the guillotine of the moment
the flame of the planets
the opened eyes of the blameless

you & i
are mostly

normal

Night

It’s a familiar street;
rain-wet cobbles, light
pooled under a single streetlamp,
footsteps echo.
The child on the curbstone
is still knotting together bits
of shoelaces
to thread through leather eyelets,
and only now
beginning to piece it all
together.
The words
have scattered,
and the street is
littered with colored confetti.
She turns the pieces over
one at a time
and leaves them.
In a distant window
neon echoes a thousand times
in raindrops on the glass.
Piano music filters out
and dissipates
like smoke.

N. A. Ebel