Terry Blackhawk: A Springfield Ghazal
My grandfather “witnessed a lynching” my father recalled,
but “expressed no shame” about what he’d seen in Springfield.
“Only a boy,” my mother maintained, when my father
began to tell about his father that night in Springfield.
June 1, 2025 · 9 Comments
Patricia Clark: Riverside Ghazal
By the rivers of America, we wept these willows.
October 12, 2022 · 4 Comments
Dawn Potter: For David
The world is personal,
Dawn says. And what heart-scalded person
would think otherwise
August 1, 2022 · 2 Comments
Sandy Solomon: Ghazal
A night of ghazals comes to an end to fill with birds.
As the sky blues, their calls braid in New Jersey.
September 21, 2020 · 1 Comment
