Author Archives: Matt Tooley

The horizon burned a sharp orange: paper flaming from the edge inward.

Ordered to recall the burning once found there, he drinks them to forget.

The billow of cloud caps the roof-ridge like a line of purple tree tops.

I will simply sip my tea; the storm speaks enough for the both of us.

One pinch of hair tucked behind the ear. Sometimes that’s all it really takes.

Unlikely heroes seem like fools. They’re far from them. We’ll miss you, Ozzie.

its dying refuse- al reconfigures a com- pliant nature