“I have faltered in my appointed duty.
It is a small sacrilege, a minor heresy.
To whom is their offering rendered,
and from whom derived,
these fallen things
[…]its fragrance is a tendril
connecting my mind to the rain,
a root, a tap, a tether.
–Campbell McGrath, Late Spring.
“There are no ghosts, but up here”—she gestured toward her head—“it’s a haunted house.” (GZ)
Cuckoo Is in the Nest by Daniel Pemberton, Amsterdam.
