Jackie Robb: The Virus and the Bulb
The beginnings of a dark cloud of worry about the virus moved in to share space with the more festive anticipation of amaryllis blooms.
Paul Christensen: Timbrels in the Marsh
The sky is a stoic blue, hard as a marble, with little wimpy clouds that carry nothing more than a few regrets from a dying winter. We’re here, right on the precipice of a season.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Spring
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
Judith A. Brice: Prolepsis of Emerald
On the calendar we see the bold square, marking the number 21 in March, marking our hope, our deep breath— 21, our emerald prolepsis, our brain’s fast synapse between withdrawal … Continue reading
Paul Christensen: The Mystery
An unwilled force drives pale shoots into the air. Something powerful underneath it all, harder than a fist, keeps making things rise, until they burst out of nothing into a … Continue reading
