My appreciation to guest editor Allyson Whipple for curating the fantastic issue 97 and including my haibun, “Progress.”

The cat chatters in the window, and I read while crows

destroy the front lawn. They start in a corner and dig like

clam hunters. Carefully. Quietly. Not a single caw between

them. The next day, more crows join the feast. The cat and I

do nothing. Our neighbors use tinfoil scarecrows and sprays.

Only a small portion of grass remains now. The rest of the

yard is tilled like a farmer’s field. I’ll try to grow grass again

next year.

crop dusters

another childhood friend

has cancer

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