Phantoms of the First Frost

Wind ferried the cold

night in as you covered

 

things that would other-

wise die by morning,

 

fighting specter

with specter. Bird

 

of paradise, star

jasmine. Crib

 

sheets cover

the raised beds

 

now, curling

the weak fists

 

of their worn

corners around

 

the bodies of dirt,

tucking in wild shoots

 

and leaves’ mad

flapping.…

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