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    WAKING UP by Jennifer Novotney

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    Waking Up The sun peeks over the mountain’s ridgeas it does every morningunless there are clouds to hide behind.The bright orange, yellow familiar glowfills the house through drawn curtains.

    PEGASUS by Januário Esteves

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    PegasusWhen spring comes and the winged wind brings itthe seeds of life and the boldness of the harbinger of creationthe wonderful sublimation of matrices that healin a cosmic dance provided in the...

    SEXT by Daniel Edward Moore

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    Sext Halfway to midnight& still the need for words to break the dayin two, regardless of how tired the tongueis from digging

    STORM CINEMATOGRAPHY by Emalise Rose

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    while we’re away lights on the bayflicker twice, then recedeto the crawl space of Summerwinds resonatingthe deep chilled wisconsin And winter will whipwhile we’re away

    TIME by Megan Harrison

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    “time”The hands of the clock move too quicklyAs everything continues to change.Changing from the ideas of simpler timesAnd the constant dream to grow upGrow oldAnd do all that one couldn’t before.As my...

    SUNDAY by Ashley Tippit

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    Science ClassMud deluging between mytoes, up my legs, splatteringinto my hair, liftednot an inch above murky water, tangled with cordgrass,reaching alongside my invasivelimbs, all of me excavatingthis Dauphin Island...

    SONNET by Pawel Markiewicz

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    Sonnet about the fallen moon and morning star Heavenly sailorling spy out the wan light-sheen of star. Baffling unearthly time: weird having just thieved by elves.

    THAT LEAP by Charlie Madden

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    That Leap Munching away in the sun,what could be more pleasant?Fellow Roos scattered as far as the eye can see -My lovely Mary there, mother of 2 and one...

    NEW TIME by Wendell Hawken

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    Aretha in her Golden Casket Hawken The angled photograph revealsthe crown of her head, face obscured, ruffled red bodice, smooth red silk skirt,shapely café-au-lait calves and...

    STINGER by Vyara Kozareva

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    STINGERThe autumn encroaches my delineationRadiantMightyRenaissance-styledIn its zibellino accessoryMuddles my reposePigments my memoryJams snouts and tailsAt the bottom of dusty brush washersBrutality demyelinates my axonsI am groping for the pointI’d lost myselfIn the...