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Collections by Gail Atwater

Collections My childhood collectionsstamps from every countryplaced neatly in a booktiny porcelain cats in a boxand stories about their livesthat made sense Fifty years later, I...

Wish to be Wind by Garrett Souliere

Wish to Be Wind Two men come,With man-built instruments;They laid on the groundTarps, big, blue, stretchedCanvases collect whatwas left of this year's trees. Brown blankets breakWet...

A Poem by Alan Abrams

To a Lover, Foolishly Abandoned Years Ago, For Her Birthday in Early April What I wish for you: sunrise, with just the right number of...

Easter Eve in Philadelphia 1963: For My Sisters by Bernardine (Dine) Watson

On the nightbefore the resurrection,four little girlsare seated aroundthe dining room tablea rainbow of chocolatesand twice as sweet. Sisters, they gather to performa family sacrament--turning...

The Rusalka’s Dance by Elizabeth Stevens

I watch him from my waters, wondering at what his thoughts may be. He cuts at reeds along my riverbanks, his sickle an arc of whistling air,...

A Poem by Michele Keane-Moore

To My Entangled Quark Shall we sit a moment To sip our jasmine tea and enjoy Being in the same room At the same table with its flowered tablecloth? Sun...

a short party for strangers on the Serengeti by Timothy Hudenburg

bore more bone marrow lessons now here plant neither nor animal either or lessons here now nowhere amongst omnivores creatures just beginning to assert their dominance T. M. Hudenburg is glad this...

Interstate-10 by Craig E. Flaherty

prelude: a small fire along the banks started withthe crumpled pages from the great americanpoetry 19th century anthologyesquire magazine coversplacemats from memorable restaurantsdiploma certificate...

Orpheus by Marc Gull

Orpheus It befalls a man to journey down into a macabre land without warmth of sun.carrying doubt but blinded by youthful passion.The shores of the...

Banks America by T. M. Hudenburg

Banks America it’s raining, it’s pouringold-monied bankers are snoringdreaming wetly on a Sunday morning whether to still those robo-pensthat keep scribbling and scribblingsignature after signature accepting...

Must-read

Three Poems by Sandra S. McRae

Winter Solstice We drive in the darkpast the open fieldsinto the neighborhood:Millions of lights on the housesin the trees—the world a-twinkle with hopewhile overhead a...

One Poem by Sarah Karowski

Kindly i want to diein the same way daddytakes care of tarantulas—kindly. pick me upby the leg & chuckme out the way. Sarah Karowski (she/her) is...

Street Scene by Vincent Casaregola

Street Scene Early evening heat rises frompavements, from cement and asphalt,carrying a scent slightly sour,slightly acrid—oily and tar-like. Outside the café, beyond its fenced-intables, a large...
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