Introduction

 
 

Christopher Woods “Door, Wells, Maine”

 

 

I love portals, 

also the way trees talk through scent,

the way strangers’ letters no longer need enveloping,

unfolding, the way I can witness words, ceiling cracks,

steer skulls, constellations again, relieved

as when the hummingbird returned

after hurricanes stilled.

We’re here. 

Come on in.

 
 
 
 

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