Adam Patric Miller: Labyrinth
in the yellow light of that narrow
carpeted hallway that led to my parents’
bedroom. there was a photo of
my great-grandfather Nestor Dreyfus
whose face escaped into my mother’s face
Robbi Nester: Tradition
I learned to light the candles, studied
the old books, taught my son to recognize the one
day of the week, one week of the year when we
eat matzo instead of bread and sing of freedom
and redemption.
Chard deNiord: Inanna and Dumuzi
The sky conjures you all day
into clouds that sack my heart
to the point I hear the growls
and howls of the beasts
they form in the guise of you
Alfred Corn: All It Is
The flexible arc
described by treetop leaves
when breathing currents ripple
a branch to one,
then the other side.
James Crews: Hello, Little Sun
On the rusty tin roof of a red barn
in rural Quebec, someone has carved
the words, Bonjour, petit-soleil—
Hello, little sun
John Zheng: Poetry as Enchantment by Dana Gioia
“If poetry is the most ancient and primal art, if it is a universal human activity, if it uses the rhythmic power of music to speak to us in deep and mysterious ways, if the art is a sort of secular magic that heightens the sense of our own humanity, then why is poetry so unpopular?”