Susan Kelly-DeWitt: The Parting
It was November outside–
the leaf-colored sofa inside
strangely vivid in the flickering
light
Baron Wormser: The Wand
Like many born in the years after World War Two, I spent a portion of my childhood watching Disney cartoons on television and in the movie theater. One thrilling aspect … Continue reading
Betsy Sholl: Liminal
In Dante, some stanzas so blaze with light,
reading them, you feel your pupils constrict.
It’s like walking along the shore, ocean
flashing on your left, sun straight ahead
flooding your eyes
Sandy Solomon: Grief
I move back and forth
down the supermarket aisles,
the way I move back and forth
through grief’s famous stages.
Sean Sexton: Final
The broken-legged bull will be slaughtered today—an
end to his struggle if nothing else.
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: “Breakfast Morning” by Jacques Prévert
He made smoke
Circles in the air
He put the ashes
Into the ashtray
Without speaking to me
Without looking at me
Baron Wormser: The Refusal
We take, rightly so, poets and writers as people who, in some way, shape, or form, are involved in praising the sheer energy of Being and, in that regard, are saying yes to the life force.
Robert Okaji: The Continuing
The body attacks itself, realizes the futility
in compensation, as the spirit expands
over the horizon. I am old, and yet…
Pinecones linger. The neighbor’s dog
pees on our shared fence.
Helen Pletts: love lies like a silver thought on still water
and when the light catches up with it, I catch myself
and throw myself into the depths
Barbara Hamby: Ode to Red and Speedy
Who can remember all the selves stuffed into the miraculous
sack of skin?
Elizabeth Warren & Bernie Sanders respond to the 2024 election
We will continue to fight for each other.
David Adès: Our Griefs
When they were little and not yet anguish
we nurtured our griefs,
we coddled them,
said there, there, things will get better.
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Dusk Again
There’s a particular light when fall days die
William Wenthe: Assembly
What moved us, perhaps, was something like
what moves the calling of these robins.
