Lover By Ada Limón

Lover By Ada Limón Easy light storms in through the window, soft            edges of the world, smudged by mist, a squirrel’s              nest rigged high in the maple. I’ve got a bone to pick with whomever is in charge. All year,  I’ve said, You know what’s funny? and then,            Nothing, nothing is funny. Which makes me laugh             in an oblivion-is-coming sort of way. A friendwrites […]