faded plaids—
we make camp
in the map’s crease

-Tanya McDonald

rockhounding
the ocean tries
to pocket me

-Tanya McDonald

a small nail
painted over
news of her death

-Tanya McDonald

downwind
from the taffy shop
sea thrift

-Tanya McDonald

archived
by birches
the day’s last light

-Tanya McDonald

patchwork sky
the crows without
a hawk to hound

-Tanya McDonald

6% downgrade
the Mesozoic
in seconds

-Tanya McDonald

prairie walk
our conversation
mostly pauses

-Tanya McDonald

Agate Beach—
the evenly spaced
whimbrels

-Tanya McDonald

box of old letters—
arriving at the strata
of condolences

-Tanya McDonald