Fox Cubs It was a cold day,the kind of cold only clearweather brings.that hardens the earthand makes life scarce. There was something ignobleabout the hunk of...

The Thing about Mornings I’ll never forget We slept Splayed on memorial benches Morning dew falling on locks like overgrown caterpillars Crawling to crystallized captivity Your smile Sunrise evaporating what moisture...

Dance is the kinesthetic expression of the music. Lucy Bowen McCauley is the Artistic Director of Bowen-McCauley Dance.

The poems in this post are part of a special section, curated by Ori Z Soltes and Robert Bettmann, The Jewish Experience. SpinozaAlone, he works,...

The Hope She was born when I was three, old enoughto celebrate but not to understandthe grainy black and white photosof bodies stacked like...

Painting by Alice Neel Once in childhood, I saw love in an art book.Painting of Geoffrey Hendricks and Brian.But, of course, I couldn’t read thenand...

But Nothing Is How does one measureenough-ness? Existingas the sum ofallone would ever need?I can littleascertainfor myself if even Isuffice It is a feelingintangible as etheronly...

Eating the Sun At the Alburgh VT eclipse festival, children sit at a picnic table drawing the sun with black crayons. A dragonfly brushes my...

Mattress Who will be my husband’s next lover?When we sign our names, releasing each otherfrom responsibility of each other’s choices,and dinners, and car insurance—Will he...