she speaks monotonously to the bend in the wall. she drones.
outside this window the field is full of birds: pairs of killdeer, of canada geese.
a red-tailed hawk circles then lands on the broken goalpost.
I turn away; I turn into the cave of this room.
sun binds the space between us.
your mouth is a straight line — a vow of anger, of silence.
this branch like a small tree