LEMONS FOR CLARA by Leslie Philibert
LEMONS FOR KLARAby Leslie Philibert
Lemons for Klara
for Klara Grünzweig 1957-2016
drops of river or ice patches;all of this without your noticebut...
COMFORT IN A THEORY by Mark Taksa
COMFORT IN A THEORYby Mark Taksa
Comfort in a Theory
The watering can I hold over a daisyis dry. Waiting for my neighbor to appearin her...
RENAMED by Tom Laichas
RENAMED
by Tom Laichas
At the Edge of Air
When the newborn inhales the Breath, flesh and clay still comingle.Between earth and this...
THIS IS MY EVENING by Diarmuid ó Maolalai
THIS IS MY EVENINGby Diarmuid ó Maolalai
Israel and Palestine.
I had put the goldfishin a small tank by the windowand had named them(some joke)Israel and...
STEEL PROPHET by Jonathan DeCoteau
STEEL PROPHETby Jonathan DeCoteau
Steel Prophet
The split-second cleaving of foliage—gauntFrom the haunches of marauding night—peeks through, with lead-tongued pantingAnd black crescent eyes:It is a baby...
SYNTHESIS by Tucker Lux
SYNTHESISby Tucker Lux SYNTHESISIt can happen anywhereall at once.Memories bringtrees to applausecooling, brushing skinenvelopinvade.Summer’s first whisperbrings allwayward ghosts homefrom haunting the scentI trail.Medicine for a fractured heart,split so many waysMidwestern airprairie sweet.If I...
THE RIVER IN SUMMER by Iain Twiddy
THE RIVER IN SUMMERby Iain Twiddy Leaf-fallsThe trees are squandering their leaves,crisp red and gold notes, thin as smoke,backed by a huge blue bank of sky.They pile up, add to the childish stashI...
CITY DEER by Darren Demaree
CITY DEERBy Darren Demaree CITY DEER #13there is play in emerging from the trees to consume to raise your head to bat your ears against the quiet that will always raise a head...
HAPPINESS by Andres Mesa
HAPPINESSby Andres Mesa HappinessNo one wants to talk about happiness.One would expect,Since there’s so little of it to go around,People would clamor to hearof the twenty peopleIn the heartlandwho found their true lovestoday.Some...
IT’S THAT KIND OF DARK by Kate LaDew
IT’S THAT KIND OF DARKby Kate LaDew
it’s that kind of dark exactly
like in those silent films, when the man tenderly puts his arm around...