Edna St. Vincent Millay: Recuerdo
We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-
covered head,
And bought a morning paper which neither of us
read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and
pears,
and we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
Jason Irwin: Ouija Board
I asked When? And How?
I was thirteen. My cousin, twelve.
It said I would be 41.
The same age my mother was that Christmas.
Elvis was 42 when he died. Jesus, 33.
Peter Blair: Hibernation
Morning breaks
blue in the open spaces
through limbs
Michael Simms: Satan and the Snowman
I don’t have relationships,
the old drunk explained
with surprising wisdom,
I take hostages.
Wislawa Szymborska: Possibilities
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
Christopher Bursk: The Day Everything Changed
I do not remember the exact date,
but I won’t forget the smell of rain still in the screen door
and the man on the other side
trying to catch his breath
Elizabeth Romero: Album
Here are my two sons in 1968
In their father’s arms.
He looks harmless.
They look doubtful and uneasy.
Patricia Jabbeh Wesley: There Will Be Times
How your arrival is now nothing to her?
And your leaving is nothing to her?
Lisa Zimmerman: Testament
I believe the truth needs no defense.
I believe that feelings might not be facts
but they matter all the same
Al Ortolani: Paper Birds Don’t Fly
Sitting at the table with the paper birds,
she unfolded mine and began to read.
I couldn’t make out a word
she was saying.
Jane Satterfield: Fox
the fox
is interloper, is fur of russet
and iron, is light-footed, is real
in my alley