Leslie Anne Mcilroy: Wake Up Love
Love sleeps nude and unashamed,
a glass of water near to quell the fires
we mistake for love, a blanket to wrap
the broken who come to her bed alone.
Denise Levertov: Clouds
as if death had lit a pale light
in your flesh, your flesh
was cold to my touch, or not cold
but cool, cooling
Abby Zimet: John Prine as Tender Poet
“If his songs were allowed to exist in the world—so simply written, so profoundly beautiful —surely there was room for other good, decent things, too.”
Emily Dickinson: Grief is a Mouse
Grief is a Thief—quick startled—
Pricks His Ear—report to hear
Of that Vast Dark—
That swept His Being—back—
Luray Gross: If Two People Are Aware of the Rising Moon
When his mind grew empty
and his heartbeat slowed to a vague stutter,
our father no longer walked the fields at night.
Jay Carson: Michael
On his route with a load of papers on his head,
he wasn’t tough enough to scare Michael
who socked him so hard papers flew
like peace doves all over Fifth Avenue.
Yana Djin: April Elegy
again April is here
with its sun of brass
and its moon of steel
John Samuel Tieman: Elegy for a Poet
Michael Castro 1945 – 2018 while the snow wants to melt winter loiters and I will listen I will listen for you when I need a noun a sudden muscle an animal can use to … Continue reading
