I don’t know why I’m so tired this week, but exhaustion seems to keep creeping into my day. I went to bed early last night and even took a nap in the middle of the afternoon, but my energy level still feels below par. I hope this isn’t a sign that I’m getting sick, because that would not be good.
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Low Flying Swallows A Sign of Rain
Plugged by a twelve gauge,
the Road Curves sign became, overnight,
an inscrutable glyph. Snuff-colored
outcrops stained dark by rain
and striped by drill scars
bracket the interstate. Folds in rock
and refolded folds in their peripheral
skirts. Hummingbirds dip their beaks
in the stoop of clematis you planted.
When had I kissed you like that?
An lo moth on the screen it flashes
its hind wings and flaps audibly off.
You and I semi-reading on the couch
wondering where our son is. A page
falls from the music stand. The ceiling
fan whirs, the dog sprawled under it.
Forrest Gander
Brianna Pike 