We will not be girlrotting in April. We will be girlblooming girlburgeoning girlflourishing

”I will be withering away in bed” no. You will be out there under the spring sun. With the grass between your toes

i hope i am not only a friend to y'all, but also that thing you mistake your clothes pile for in the middle of the night

I'm like if a girl went gentle into that good night

From "Appalachia". 1969

Photo: Arthur Tress

The farm ~

and I turn in April's stomach

I don’t care about it at all (I have carried its weight around like a rock on my chest since the very day it happened)

what’s done is done