By M. Benjamin Thorne I always feel sorryfor birds in the rain,suffering stoically thedrop-splatter on head,incessant drip offwicking feather vanes;But do they suffer? Oris it simply the isthat exists before thenext one, the leechingsun sucking back upthe already forgotten?Maybe. But still I seethrough the window,past my reflection,the huddled soaked crowshead-cocked, peeringin at me, my too-smallroom … Continue reading Exposition
Academy of the Heart And Mind 