Birding in the Glass Age of Isolation. Curtis LeBlanc

mesh screen,

      the sky a steep slide to vertigo and I feel it’s best I shut my mouth rather than explain this, gun in hand.

      Jared raises his twenty-two, takes a crack at another squirrel to sell to a man who makes keychains from their tails,

      but misses high again. It’s almost noon. I let a hare off easy. We’re the renewed embodiment of that old debate: