Julianne, go hometake your dusty shoveland hollow three stepswindward of our treeits boughs bent, unripe fruitdangled over muddy riverroots snagging, thorns bloody with testament to youth's tangled hands stained pockets, thosewild dreamstake your shovel and digand digging, growsteep graves of dry dirtbeneath the rumbling thundertesting lesser courageyet let no rain prevent youpiling soil, peeling timewhile … Continue reading Instructions For Julianne, Upon My Death →