Home Poetry - Year VI - Number 48 - May 2021

Poetry - Year VI - Number 48 - May 2021

    SUNSET OVER LARAMIE by T.M. Boughnou

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    PART ONEA CALL FROM BEYOND I sat watching the space of sky and the surrounding countryside just before twilight came. Everything appearing as though to have come more alive...

    THE SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET ABOUT MY DOG by Pawel Markiewicz

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    Ephrastic poetry Picture of Abraham Hulk The dreamery inshore A dreamed ship has gone agroundat the most marvelous...

    DEMOCRACY by Katharine Studer

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    Statistics In 2020, death rates for thelonely climbed. Research showedthere Is not a mask for loneliness.No one wants to watchthe hands of a clockstop. In Japan,the lonelycan rent a...

    I AWAIT HIS RETURN by Alex Koong

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    If there’s one thing I’ve learnedfrom the hours spent staringat the tiny airplane on the edgewhere the sky breaks the rock, It’s that when scenery passesbetween two realities, flashes...

    VISION WEST by Rachel Cloud Adams

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    September as AfterthoughtHarvey Mountain, Columbia County, New York On Harvey Mountain, far north of here,snow is seeping into rock crevicesbordering the path, and lichenis lining the feet of a...

    DANCE DIVINE by Peter W. Yaremko

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    OLD YALLER He’s more pink thanyellow. But I couldn’tvery well name himafter a girly colorcould I? In the old dayswhen he was rousedat the mere sight of afrisbee he’d...

    DG TURD by William Barrett

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    New days ahead and worlds of wonder.Riding on my bike and looking for my plunder.I ride around a lot, and girls have nothing against me.I just never try to get close to...

    AFTER LOVE by Robert Hirschfield

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    After Lovefor Julia After lovenothing movesbut timebackwards a faceits green dartof snow your seventy-sevenyearsblink Robert Hirschfield ...

    ALONE IN THE HOUSE ON A WINTER AFTERNOON by Russell Dupont

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    POEMS BY RUSSELL DUPONT ALONE IN THE HOUSE ON A WINTER AFTERNOON This house is so still I can feel it breathe.Morning has crept away, leaving...

    MASTERPIECE by Margot Hughes

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    Masterpiece “I find bits of scrap metal beneath her bedfrom boys who bury promises in her belly.”—Kristina Haynes Her body was a junkyard: a potpourriof someone...