Lola Haskins: Field Notes
You were born breathing water.
Grown, you push your prey from the air
into the basket of your legs
o angel bright as grass
hovering above the red flowers.
James Crews: Consider the Lilies
Consider these lilies, how
they’d never call themselves
broken simply because they
had to live in darkness
and cold for months
Four Poems by Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨 translated into Chinese by Ma Yongbo 马永波
we are the weeping spring rain
Juan Garrido Salgado: Poem of Night and the Wind | Poema de la Noche y el Viento
The word is wind, silence is wind, night is wind.
Clouds that imprison the moon.
Light that is no longer light but darkness of clouds and sky.
In the distance the sleeping mountains wake with the leaves of the wind.
Kim Stafford: Wren’s Nest in a Shed near Aurora
Three tiny eggs in thistledowncupped in a swirl of grass in the pocket of the tool beltI hung on the wall of the shedwhen it finally stood complete—will be three … Continue reading
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Godwit Beach
Remember? It was late in the afternoon,
we walked a while along these limestone cliffs,
under the silver ghosts of eucalyptus trees.
Bertha Rogers: When Winter — Lục bát
Here is an example of a traditional fixed form borrowed from Vietnamese folk poetry.
Tony Whedon: Field of Vision | Blues and Greens
Between this and that, my wife, my dear little cowslip,
was misdiagnosed with heart failure and everything I loved
lost its pigment. The old reds weren’t red anymore,
the rose bushes on the path by the river had lost their pink
