Ebba Simone’s Reviews > The Indifferent World > Status Update

"It's morning when lines
break
under the rhythms of crow
call,
their gentle rocking of sky,
black and forth,
black and forth."

"like her hand when it cupped
the curve of my shoulders and
squeezed
warmth into my fear."

"Look again -- an
unwritten poem shifting
in the wind, an open
wound of torn air."

...a piece of driftwood light as
time. The barometer
is bottom-broken; the bubbling
tidal flats give up

their dead; the seagulls tilt over
the rot
of eyeless dogfish. The code of
hospitality stands

outside the beach house you
don't own. Its heels
sink in the wet give, hair slow-
dances the wind.