2 Poems by Glen Hubbard
Scandalously languorous, the yacht yawns into a turn, stern tilting like an easy lover adjusting to accommodate another.
You hear them before you see them, their calls carrying. From up high you scan the sky until you spy in the distance a ball of soot that contracts and expands. Cranes. Skeins that fly to the south west. Icons of autumn. Hungry for acorns. Minutes go by and now the shifting V is clear to see. The long legs almost left behind and the heads pointin...