Arriving at the lakeshore one morning I came upon a poem Arriving at the lakeshore one morning I came upon a poem not of pristine sailboats cutting into precise horizons nor of the watercolour sunrise, nor even of the sound the water makes as it drags itself like...
The island, thirty-five minutes by air off the coast of Belize, is too small for anything like a runway. The island, thirty-five minutes by air off the coast of Belize, is too small for anything like a runway. Instead it offers ‘a place to land’, a slice of cracked...