by Shei Sanchez
Darkness on route 144. The hour before dawn still
folded in the failing moonlight. November air
hangs dewed, wanting. My only source of light
caged in the eyes of my car, searching
for the right of way. Brightened for whitetails,
possums, refuge. Groping for tread and mettle. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Glen Armstrong
She held it behind her back, and the lights dimmed. The world wore orthopedic shoes. What was missing seduced; what was left sedated.
Filed under Poetry
by Christine Kwon
I carry a wilting tulip
I pack a champagne glass
I try to trap the runt of the litter
I trace the green tendril growing from my chest
I am remembering my mother Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor
Write poems that peek at this mess
like dawn light from curtains of cloud,
or the red throated pouch poems
that perch on tree carcasses just
after a storm when begging sounds
are misunderstood as singing. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Wendi White
…and on the 8th day,
after Adam and Eve failed
that totally rigged test,
the people got busy
arguing.
Should they herd the ones with hooves
or begin to plant seeds?
Should they fill their stores with grain
or share it with strangers?
And what about the dates in the oasis?
Who owns those,
not to mention the water? Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 