Each year, the boy watched from his highest window.
Mortality
In Witness to Death
The seawater froths white
then red again, bubbles
flashing like the tails
that flick up and smash
Frosty, No
The other evening, during a snowstorm, my portly neighbor George suffered a heart attack while shoveling his driveway.
The Dialects of Rain
When I was a boy, my father taught me to speak rain, a difficult language because of all the dialects.