Steve Nolan: With Aeneas in a Time of Plague by Christopher Bursk | Review
With Aeneas in a Time of Plague by Christopher Bursk Ragged Sky Press (July 5, 2021) $15.00. 98 pages . I believe every poet has a good reason why they … Continue reading
Emily Dickinson: A Bird, came down the Walk
A Bird, came down the Walk –
He did not know I saw –
He bit an Angle Worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw
Edison Jennings: The Cats of Rome
The cats of Rome sleep, feed, and breed
among the tumbled travertine, and slip,
tails high, across the flag draped avenues.
Judith Sanders: Cherry Tree Elegy
A freak tornado had snapped its aged limbs,
one angled like a lap where our son had snuggled,
sheltered by green in summer, copper in fall.
Jose Padua: On These Passing Hours of Butterflies and Dangerous Living
In my darker hours I like to imagine a knitting club
where no one is allowed to smile.
Susan Kelly-DeWitt: Autumnal Equinox
It seemed like
everyone I knew had something
precious to give away
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Afternoon on a Hill
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
Aidan Rooney: Chestnut Tree (after Ida Faubert)
The courtyard’s chestnut tree,
already shedding leaves
in dulcet sunset heat,
stands tall and grieves.
George Drew: The Poem about the Beatles (with video)
This is the poem about the Beatles that
I never wrote, and now there are more
yesterdays than tomorrows
Josephine Dickinson: Birchen Twigs Break No Ribs
These birches were growing and sinking into their own soil
around the time of the building of Jericho
Jefferson Carter: Cat & Transient
I swore I’d stop writing about liberal guilt
& about cats too, but I must confess
last night, I groomed our little black cat
with my tongue
Dawn Potter: Heat Wave
a squirrel is hurling insults, and beneath his screeches the cicadas
insist and sigh, insist and sigh, unmoved by his grandiloquent snit.
Rachel Hadas: What do the classics teach us about hope?
How do we weather this welter of bad news? How do we adapt?
Majid Naficy: Kabul
But larks have not forgotten to fly
And grass still sprouts from the earth of Kabul
And rivers are replenished by the snows of Pamirs
And the groves of Samangan are filled with sounds of birds.
