The four-leaf clover should not have been there, caught in Esteban's hair. It was a surprise there was any clover at all. The cows had already been through twice that week, pulling at the remnants of ... [+]
In our dreams, we've started
seeing the phantoms planted
beneath our floorboards—
and we fear that there is no door that is always open for us.
It took too long to realize
the tenderness of ice cubes
in our tomato soup
and that each sound is a sentence.
And when we wake up, the house is full of smoke
from fires burning somewhere else, but
all we can do is close the windows
and take out the trash.