The Editor Writes That She is Tired of the Word Drifting
by Donna Vorreyer
perhaps she spends too many
winter hours watching snow
shift itself into slanted banks
or she despises the soporific
rhythm of the sea delivering
itself onto the shoreline
perhaps she imagines the eyes
of a lover wandering away, too
far from her own sad face
or maybe she hates the word
itself, the laziness of it, all
that snow and sand and love
just carried along complacent
on the wind, so delicate, so
powerless, so imprecise