SALT by Robert McCloy

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SALTby Robert McCloy  Old St. David’s (Cheraw, SC) August pines and majestic magnoliasStand testament to centuriesOf weddings, Sundays, funerals;Gentle, torrid windAdorns the forlorn, silent yard. What storiesOf passion, hope, faith,Impotence, despair, bewildermentAre sealed in the rootsOf the...

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 nothingbut its odors; and the pale extensionof afternoon will soon...

LITTLE THINGS – Poems by Amanda Caroline Whitehurst

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LITTLE THINGSPoems by Amanda Caroline Whitehurst What You’ll Find Wonder will be scratched up under your fingernailsand you won’t have time to pick it out.At your apartment window, where at nightyou can see into other windows...

VESPERS UPDATE by Don Thompson

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Vespers Update In this season, the sun setslike an afterthought, its lightalready non-luminous. The hills mostly murkwith some leftover mauvethat’s gone flat. But Venus burns a holein the West, intenseand more adamant than ever.** January 31st 1.The sun through...

LIFE, INTERRUPTED by Roseanne Morales

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LIFE, INTERRUPTEDby Roseanne Morales Life, Interrupted A growing sensation never there,a dream you woke up from, wonderingdid it even happen, in another life,perhaps another death never recorded?This be is not to be, no questionasked or answered,...

WITH A GUITAR by Mark J. Mitchell

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WITH A GUITARby Mark J. Mitchell  A SURBURBAN SEER’S MORNING DREAM Her morning dreams sprouted flowers with namesinscribed on each petal. They bloom. No fruitemerges, but people die. Their small gamesend sharply. A hasty burglar slips....

BOARDER by Daisy Bassen

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BOARDERby Daisy G. Bassen   The egg is balanced on the rim of the glass bowl.It fills the space my palm is meant to hold.The energy that will become the crackingLimns the shell. The moment cracksWith...

PEN SAND by Luke Skoza

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LOVEby Katharine Studer Love Before the word is spokenA man might walk on handsDangling mid-air without a net or wire,Concentrating to keep the weightof his legs extended straight in the center,Nudging his fingers to gain an...

PROLONGING by William Snyder

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PROLONGINGBy William Snyder    PROLONGINGShe told me towait a little while.I said okay,I’ll wait outside.Ry Cooder, JoniMitchell, somebodyin Chains—they play and play.I slept last nightin the hollow comfortof the downstairs couch.Alone.I asked herto come too,but she...

THE DAY THE MACHINES CAME by John Linstrom

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The Day the Machines Came We said, finally, here is some helpand for cheap. Somewhere someonehad dug the graves of a bygone age and turned up the muck to racketthe tractor to life. We thirsted,had no...