Jet Lag

by J. Tarwood

Slowly sandy-eyed,
I wait out mist
rising in my head:

Time left behind
is after me still.

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Overture

by Meredith MacLeod Davidson

As a solo violist, I rued the overt.
I faked it in performance.
I told my grandmother
(a woman who paid for two
degrees in music education)
I faked it in performance.

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Black and White Photograph

by John Tustin

I see the moment in my mind
As if I was not a participant but witnessed it –
Like an old black and white photograph
Of two people in a single speck of time
That has defined their entire lives to a stranger.

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Shades

by Nathan D. Metz

Between blue
and purple, how

many little kingdoms
fold and unfold?

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Short Voicemail on the End of the Season

by Ellery Beck

I am sick of walking on the sidewalk with cicadas as they sing their last songs. I’m back on the way to class, late—was sitting with a raven, she seemed like she couldn’t fly. How could you expect me not to stay? The big leaves, the ones that swallow my hands when I hold them, are starting to fall. Continue reading

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