Dale here. I am testing our email system that delivers our poems to our mailing list. We’re having a little trouble with it. It’s probably the heat.

While I’m at it,  I’m including one of our previously posted poems from the archives. Here’s Megan Merchant, from 2017.

Megan Merchant

The hospital intake form wants me to declare a religion

When I was nine,

I let a patch
of dandelions grow
by the church-white
walls

so they too
could be scolded
for beauty

and when dried,

cursed for undressing
under the sky.

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Megan Merchant is either happily lost in the tall pines, or updating her website meganmerchant.wix.com/poet.

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