Sabbath I
Every moment,
in the waning sun
is christened with the possibility
of rest, with the knowledge
that another is worthy
of the green’s blessing,
with the delight of light...
From The Adirondack Chair
When young’uns (poets mostly)
say elder
They spout it
having concluded
that anyone over 39
sat a couple of rows back
from Sappho
in...
As Moon Beams Fade
The tiger prowls at night,
hunting moon beams as its prey.
Wandering apparitions sail the darkness,
searching for a place to rest.
Landing past dawn,...
Raised architecture of gold leaf
Time-gone smoke darkened
the possible reflection. Museum light shadows continue
to tweak the narrative.
Gold demands candlelight.
Or maybe candlelight demands...
I’m from
potholes in the bóithrín road
limestone walls
whitethorn bushes
aged fields and mossy stones
drip-drip hedges before
a blue farm gate
apples rotting under...
These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...
These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...
These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...