I Love How
by Julie Sumner
in the West,
the earth fashions itself arms,
complete with angled elbows
and cords of tendons,
reaches upward with rocky hands
toward the blue-shouldered sky
as if it were someone beloved
leaving for good.
Lost in Translation by Julie Sumner Onscreen you are perfected in pixels: laugh lines and blue-green eyes strikingly clear, still there’s an absence to your flattened presence; the space around your f
The Babylon Willow by Julie Sumner Every tree that weeps is a hybrid of our own hands, grafted to grow into the softened shape of our sorrow. Even the diamond hard light cannot straighten these limbs,