Tag: Spring Up Everlasting

The season of cracking open, bloodroot, egg strings. My grandmother chops the cloddy ground. Many years without him. Onion sets, new moon peas.  from “Chorus Frog” by William Woolfitt It’s alarming to watch Netflix now: all those strangers in unconcerned proximity, sharing bread, shaking hands! Poor hygiene is not, I suspect, what those directors wanted…