Maybe the undulating line runs in water/ or in sand, splays on the imagined cover/ of a passport, map for a new home.
Poetry
But My Sister Said All Poets are Liars… (and other poems)
My sister said
it was a pebble,
but I saw it grow from pebble to rock,…
To Pete, who crushed my dog’s head with a hammer
The dog’s bark
keeps you awake.
We received
your letter.