Grateful to have three poems included in the new issue of Kestrel.
![](https://scontent.fphl2-4.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/118382208_10224195906354237_867367383293664986_n.jpg?_nc_cat=106&_nc_sid=730e14&_nc_ohc=masvvuwvQmMAX-qyaH2&_nc_ht=scontent.fphl2-4.fna&oh=fde9c74995fcf1c2a544949b00225c9f&oe=5F72407C)
Here's one of them:
Silk Road
In the burnished tree
what cold branches
now stare down
and are affixed
with the last of snow
for winter’s just a metaphor
for the kind of loss
we figure on—
forgive me,
friends.