by Mercedes Lawry
What can I say out here in the field of scorched grass?
How long will it take for the water to disappear?
Rivers thin to trickles, to dry rocks and bruised stones.
The many stars in a smoky haze, uncounted. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Poetry
Aftermath
Young Drunks
by Alison Amato
Mom always told me to be home before two a.m.–
All the drunks are on the road after that.
And there we were, a pair of young drunks, minutes shy
of three a.m., using our loud whispers at your brother’s kitchen island.
Filed under Poetry
Night Poem
by George Freek
I stare into the lake,
where the moon is reflected
like a shrunken pear. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Sutton Hoo
by Bex Hainsworth
For Mercie Lack and Barbara Wagstaff
Summer, 1939, and the past is pressing itself
against windowpanes like the children
in your classes when the planes fly overhead.
Gas masks clunk in cardboard, there is
a parade of plague doctors in the playground.
Time doesn’t feel linear: it folds like an accordion,
like the earth beneath a plough.
Filed under Poetry
oil in water
by Keira Deer
his hands shake as he shows me his photographs. oil in water, he says.
______several quarts per day. micro-volleys, climbing from underwater fuel tanks,
and laying like dancing ribbon, like ghosts arriving to their new lives.
______secrets spring from these ocean bodies, reported Continue reading
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
Hawaii Pacific Review 