Overnight, it’s pow! The held note keeps falling. And only seems slow. Because it’s just frozen rain, what’s the big deal? the checker in Stop and Shop told me. Save warmth like stamps. The fade of their color in the 1920s. Airmail. The pilot with his skin-
Marianne Boruch is the author of eight poetry collections, including Cadaver, Speak (Copper Canyon Press, 2014). She teaches at Purdue University and in the graduate program for writers at Warren Wilson College. Boruch lives in West Lafayette, Indiana.