by Dr. Edward J. Kame`enui
My Hawaiian blood is from Hilo,
the Waipio Valley, and Kamuela
where gobo grows vertical
in soft brown dirt.
Not Lahaina. Continue reading
by Dr. Edward J. Kame`enui
My Hawaiian blood is from Hilo,
the Waipio Valley, and Kamuela
where gobo grows vertical
in soft brown dirt.
Not Lahaina. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Justin Lacour
The first cold night in south Texas
I split an omelet and hash browns
with a girl so high she thought
Waffle House was shaped like a bowl Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Deborah H. Doolittle
I am reading my roots
like grandma’s tea leaves,
having sipped that bitter
brew, having tipped the cup
for likenesses to ogham
or runes or any glyphs Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Ann Cefola
–For Katherine Tompkins McCollom (1923-2019)
Each late September day, a monarch crosses my path, looping on air—
a trampoline, a highway, a portal; voyager from Vermont, milkweed-fat and nectar-full,
heading always—I turn to face it too—south, from plaited cornfields
relieved of spiked gold—knee-high by the Fourth of July— Continue reading
by R.A. Pavoldi
Alan used to haul lobster from this bay
pulling traps from the thick breathing air,
dove under in winter for urchins spiny
and cold on the dark green shelves,
a slow crab breathing through a hose
while his life held its breath waiting above. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry