Conifer—Prose Poems by Kolby Harvey


by Kolby Harvey


I am talking about the wind in the trees, the pine shake dappled. Pockets of fog on the road at night after you pull a pheasant off the wall, a plucked duck out the freezer, laid out on the den’s bear rug tackle box. Hit a crow on the nose and the ducks tip under a metal washbasin. The dogs may eat too much if given the chance. Can we agree on this at least. That there’s too much iron in the water. An orange dome over the boiling pot, it’s best to puncture the film with a fork and let the pieces somersault through the dingy liquid.

Continue Reading