Archive for September, 2004

What He Dreams of in His Coma

He can see her up there, standing on the very top of the hill, her silhouette flat against the exploding sun. The highway behind him holds his red car pulled over with its doors wide on hinges, engine still running in cylinder circles. He stands at the bottom of the hill and her body is[…] See more ⇒

poetry, writing. September 2004. From the book "This Line Drawn Across Footprints." read more ⇒

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