Animal Kingdom

by The New Republic | November 5, 2007

Birdsong, antiphonal, shuttles the maples between Temple and Cliff Ave with gold.

My splayed titian cocker glosses my fir floor. Smoke-dark, my cat droozling this page. Don't let me leave the earth too soon.

I don't sleep at night. I am nothing,

a mossy-lipped, granite, abandoned farm well full of iron-icy, deep, black well water. Where are the people, Melissa? I don't know. Oh, don't let me leave the earth too soon.

By Melissa Green

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