I just like what we say

The doctor said that size never impresses a doctor. 
We only care about rate of change.
I closed my hand around that. 

Anna is waving on the landing, so I wave back — 
somethings about to change 
in undramatic wafts of time. 

Her mask dangles from her finger.
To no end does the robin at the end of the road disappoint us.
Always, this almost. I don’t like any of these poems.

ξ

M.A. Cowgill lives in New England. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Narrative Magazine, Colorado Review, West Branch, and elsewhere. She earned her MFA from the University of Virginia as well as support from the Vermont Studio Center and Bread Loaf Writers' Conference.