I was in the fields. / God was a rock in my hands. / From such heaviness / what could rise? / Not his body / only its cry.

• ؛𓇼༊ Gregory Orr, “Three Songs,” in The Caged Owl

A monster?/ Wouldn’t anything/ cry like that,/ pierced to the heart?

• ؛𓇼༊ Gregory Orr, “Investigation” in The Caged Owl

I know there is a river somewhere,/ lit, fragrant, golden mist, all that,/ whose irrepressible birds/ can’t believe their luck this morning/ and every morning.

• ؛𓇼༊ Molly Brodak, “In the Morning, Before Anything Bad Happens”