Landscape Where I Forget My Father The four corners of my eyeline are rich with distraction. An aquarium, a library, a fun park, a creek. In this scene, a shrike crosses the sky, spears a frog on some barb for later. He looks like a songbird but is known as a butcher. In the map-center, is a half-acre with dead dogwoods, a blue spruce, a fence built flush with another fence. The dogwood trees are so dried out that they fall
from just a push.
POETRY | 101
Fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and art selected for phoebe's Winter 2019 issue.