Dara Weir

In my hometown, it was like January, like January in Oaxaca, in Fortin de las Flores, like Fortin in the mid-forties, like the 40s in December, like December on the river, a forest of willows half in, half out of …

The birds are sleeping, it’s far from morning, except for the birds who rightfully haunt the dark, and the low-life, lazy geese who’ve given up their fly-way rights to live at ease around the man-made pond below the ridge.They come …