Maggie Doyle Mother I run out, expecting to douse myself in clear, soft air but nature cannot be so easily persuaded, she’s too wounded for my small desires—choked by sickly smoke, she is raging […]
Read More09/08/2021 — 0
Natalie Wolf
09/06/2021 — 0
Ben Kassoy “Control”
Ben Kassoy Control Your hair as usual is untethered / freewheeling / fearless and whispers into the water as it sinks beyond the surface of the sea and summons luminescent eels to swim circles around your generous and tenacious body, and on my end it’s Christmas morning and I’m alone in a log cabin and […]
Read More09/03/2021 — 0
Robert Witmer “December”
Robert Witmer December At the edge of sight, through a small window, I see a few faint lights in a town I know I will never visit, so I keep watching as darkness closes over one light and then another, until the town is fast asleep and the train whistle sounds and the carriage heaves […]
Read More09/01/2021 — 0
Scott Hughes “My Father Names the Plants”
Scott Hughes My Father Names the Plants As we stroll the edges of his property, my father points along the tree line and names the different plants— bald cypress, red maple, pink lantern— but in that moment, he’s not recalling them from memory: He’s bestowing the names upon them, creating them for me. Scott Hughes […]
Read More08/30/2021 — 0
Scott Hughes “Undertow”
Scott Hughes Undertow A marriage, like salt in water, can dissolve in silence as loud as the whorling sea underneath the glass-still surface. Scott Hughes has three books available at www.writescott.com.
Read More08/27/2021 — 0
Stateira “Le Fin”
Stateira Le Fin Often I dream of death, final breaths whispering through groaning trees, light surrendering to darkness under a halo of smiling stars- le fin. Stateira is an aspiring poet who enjoys French Symbolism, learning languages, star-gazing, opera, dancing freestyle and, naturally, writing poetry. gardening and hopes to someday publish an entire anthology of poetry. […]
Read More08/25/2021 — 0
Nancy Kay Peterson “Thinking Too Much”
Nancy Kay Peterson Thinking Too Much If I let go of my mind I don’t know if it will float or hesitate and hover like a butterfly or collapse under its own weight. Nancy Kay Peterson is grateful there are readers who appreciate one-sentence poems.
Read More08/23/2021 — 0
Steve Klepetar “Swallow Island”
Steve Klepetar Swallow Island I heard the horses nicker, saw them gallop across the field just as rain began pelting down, and I thought of you then, your long hair and your eyes, how you would have loved the sight of those wet beasts kicking up mud as they raced for home. Steve Klepetar drives […]
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