Music by Brandon Robberts
an image of the willow tree behind my grade-school, ca. 2005
Sarah Lohmann
Tonight I spring into the grass and un-
to you, divine, my eyes will flit. The wind
remarks the two of us come both alone;
intending not accompaniment nor
to stain the glowing silence here. And yet,
together now, we lie. As broken rose-
bud, heavy lilac boughs atop descend-
ing, your uneven breathing floats too far
beyond the curtain, green and fresh, or ra-
ther just a touch beyond my grasp: an inch.