The Naturalist’s Last Love Poem by Ashley Anna McHugh
I hate it when things spiral out of control, and it's not even happening to me. The Naturalist's Last Love Poem Ashley Anna McHugh Nothing on earth can last forever. It's become an art: rain and the river cut cliffs. Cold swings; leaves fall with fervor. Birds
The Unquarried Blue of Those Depths Is All But Blinding by Ashley Anna McHugh
Monday rains and Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. The Unquarried Blue of Those Depths Is All But Blinding Ashley Anna McHugh for John Fogleman There are some things we just don’t talk about— Not even in the morning, when we’re waking, When your calloused fingers tentatively walk The