Poetry - Year III - Number 19 - December 2018

POND FROGby Nathanael O'Reilly Pond Frog a young frog makes her homein the backyard pond beneath the stone water featureunaware that every summer for the past five years anotherfrog has lived in the same pond until consecutive hundred-degreedays heat...

UNDERNEATHby Roger Singer UNDERNEATHFall back under early stars.The sea moves reflective waves,pulsing onto sand, building likeengines of thunderous clouds.Streams of people merge intotemporary spaces; strangers oncorners, a brief land of shouldersstaring straight ahead.  A steady...

COSMOSby Dorsía J. Smith Cosmos My son asks me what happened to his baby brother. What baby brother? The one in your belly, Mama. Why he’s gone to the air, I say,like a ball of cells radiating by motion.It’s...

THREE SEASONSby A.R. Francis Three seasons Three seasons have passedSince I knew youSince I knew the way your scarfFell across your shoulderOr the way you sipped your teaFrom that chipped cupOn Spring Street And one day we'll...

PENETRATING SECRETSby Cynthia Pitman PENETRATING SECRETSWith all your science can you tell how it is — & whence it is, that light comes into the soul?-- ThoreauThe science is settled.We know it all now.No more...

THE NEXT TIMESby Margarita Serafimova The next times were surrounding me,and everything in their evening lightwas quivering with unconscious potential. I was yearning for you, for an answer from youwhen I raised my gaze to the...

I STAND IN WATERby Keith Hoerner I stand in water. It sloshes ’round my scuffed black leather wingtips, laps up the ankles of my rumpled dress slacks, turns khaki to the color of murky brown. Onlookers...

    AND THE WINDOW IS SMALLERby Hannah Paige  Dear Staples, here are your rubber bands backDeteriorating love is a funny thing.You build up this glowing mass of memories and emotions.It’s a warm rubber band ball orb...

PERFECTLY BLINDby Philip Wexler Perfectly Blind Her pledges, at the outset, sincere, genuineand most of all, honored.  Thus, you took refugefor a spell in the mirage of perfection.  Inevitably, the sheen began to tarnish.  She was too...

RHINOCEROSby Thomas Sanchez Hidalgo It’s four a.m. I have serious problems. And a Magnum in my pocket. Minutes later, dozens of crows, over a crowd of scrapyard parts (near the shoulder), take flight at our...