On the Recommendation of Ovid we Tried a Weasel It was the first mammal he ever gave me. He must have trapped it late last night when the moon disappeared inside a nightclub of clouds and stars giggling staggered behind. I found it in the morning, slung like an amulet across the lapel of my winter coat, flattened to a strip, satin lined, its … Continue reading Five poems by Jane Weir