by Jane Flint
When power burns
through all within its path
its glow transfers
to the contours
of its kindling. Continue reading
by Jane Flint
When power burns
through all within its path
its glow transfers
to the contours
of its kindling. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Cheryl Isaac
A cigarette held by shaky fingers
The coffee mug vibrates
Bombs explode in Syria
More dead in Nice
Thunder crashes in Georgia
The nerves tighten their grip
The saucer shatters Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Celeste Noelani McLean
It is the baby’s still birthday, so
I dust his urn with my fingertips
The only care-taking I do now
He is dead
The other children get my
Unremarkable busy-day parenting,
Utility of soft white sandwich bread and
Tight-as-you-can embraces Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Sharon Fain
Soon the longest night of the year
will bear down on these trails
near my home, a darkness
that for the ancients was like a death.
At New Grange and Stone Henge
they lit torches, waited it out. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Ken Tokuno
Coming of age on a farm in Sacramento was not my choice.
I spent my teen years driving tractors through dust so thick
I would emerge at the end of the day with nostrils clogged
With black grit. I would watch the sorghum seeds we planted rise
Like the soldiers sowed by Jason, knowing I would have
To fight through them all summer, being scalded by the sun. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry