They spoke a language that smelled of horsehair
and tasted of apple butter and red beet eggs
Poems by Cynthia Atkins, Jose Alcantara, Judith Alexander Brice, Michael T. Young, Sydney Lea, Charlie Brice, John Samuel Tieman, and Adrian Rice.
I’m rocked into fields
of a lyrical witness, history rolls over
glittering in sunlight
During bedtime my little spider monkey
asked what we’re doing about global warming
The green folds of hillside
in the distance will open like arms to embrace you,
our soils enriched by the return,
the reminder of who we all are.
Prayers and wonder in these arches flicker
into smoke and ash, a single, blind beating wing
He likes to repeat to himself a phrase from a Keats letter: I will clamber through the clouds and exist. It steadies him like leaning against trees, or brewing coffee … Continue reading
Wind tore at trees outside the window. Shreds of leaves and bits of twig clicked at the glass all day. There was nothing to be done and little we could … Continue reading