shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Elisabeth Crago


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Absence

Today in the dreary noon, cardinals hide,
arctic swans flee south.

Gunshots pierce the air behind the woodpile.
The wary deer know it's hunting season.

Quail peek out from under the azalea, peck
sunflower seed squirrels scattered on the snow.

I tend a fire in the woodstove. The air blankets
my body but does not warm me.

I try to quench your absence with scent—
chocolate, ginger, almond—
pray the cookies will not taste of tears.