Liza Katz Duncan: Bayshore Elegy
You’d have to be crazy to call home
a strip of sand that will be underwater
in fifty years and oh,
my God, what does that make me?
Sydney Lea: A Monk After Dark
One boot sags like him in his cubicle’s corner.
He drops the other to the floor with a grimace.
Carolyn Miller: Street Trees of San Francisco
despite everything
that keeps going wrong—the ginkgos,
opening tiny green fans.
Elizabeth Romero: This is me without you
I cannot be with the birds
With their mites and their feathers
And their hot little bodies
Their impassioned but inscrutable
Comments on their world
Audio: Robert Frost reads ‘West-Running Brook’ and ‘The Death of the Hired Man’ (with texts)
‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.’
Jose Padua: Nirvana
enjoying the
path I’m taking
and the unobscured view
of blue mountains
as my hair
slowly turns
gray
Arlene Weiner: Another Art
Put it on eBay, ka-ching, ka-ching—
keep nothing but the things that give you cheer.
But so many objects seem to want to cling