Andrew Weatherly



Changing Their Spots

the crows were crowding under the tree not riding wind waves waffling branches not jabbing groundhogs nor hazing blue jays just pecking the earth, knock, knock asking forgiveness to enter the fold promising good behavior offering to return shiny gems …

Posted in 91: MONSTER | Tagged

Hard Bun

Soft fur on the hard top Blood bone fur heart ears run together run over run through by crows’ peaks kaffeclatsch breakfast bun turned over As I drive by dodging crows four wings flop a few feet away one’s stomach …

Posted in 69: TRANSTASMAN | Tagged