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No Other Land.

   "I am indeed alive: through all
Extremes I drag my days.“

—Cranch’s Virgil, III.405-6

Just Imagine.

"Vigil For Winter

Autumn:
loose-leafed article
of orchard bruises,
of horses lurching
through violet fog

A sun-scarred scarecrow
slumps,
a hawthorn bough folds itself
into blossom bones.

and the soil?

The soil,
hardens,
braced
for frost’s brutality."

—@thedevilstuna.bsky.social

Rainy Road.