poem

Tag

The Meaning of Life by Matthew Ratz

Doors locked, we hide the keys Jeans frayed across the knees On our backs beneath the stars Basking in an autumn breeze   She spies Polaris, points out Mars They’re...

Three Poems by Danielle Badra

All the silenced, all the neglected, all the invisible This is not utopia. This is a borderland. This is south of the borderland. This is not...

Dancing Daughter of Daughters by Maryhelen Snyder

This morning we stand at the seawall, my dancing daughter and I. As I circle her with my arm and lean my head against her, I know...

Statue in the Shallows by Rebecca Leet

Odd. Just plain odd. No other word for it. It’s hard to see, against the backdrop of beech and brush at the edge of the river. Fisherfolk...

Longitude by Ann Wrayburn

In August heat, the urge to be misplaced can find you standing on the sidewalk, disoriented, holding someone else’s photos by mistake. Trying to place that cottage,...

Dark Energy by Susan Mockler

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems from poets who participated in Arlington Writers Resist on January 15, 2017 —for the parents of the...

Driving to Juniata by Katherine E. Young

for David Hutto Up there’s the interstate, peeping through trees. Down here among hollows, satellite dishes, a man on his deck guzzles beer, wishes he were driving that...

Soul Vision by Lori Levy

We can’t hide here—the only two white women in the front row of the Crossroads Theater in south L.A., where Isaac, the black man, stands on...

The Cancer Fairy by Judith Swann

It was a small dark body, like a mouse. Unemployed, it still drove the car, pushing the TV out the passenger-side door, yellow chyme and bile the...

Nuts by Melanie Bilkowski

Today is just another Peanut Butter and Jelly day. 0.75 cents per sandwich retail. But by the time My daughter is 35, I am sure that it’ll be triple...

Must-read

One Poem by Charlotte Van Schaack

Writing On The Wall   Even with the fear of haunted place, everyone is trying to become a ghost.          As in the paid...

One Poem by Kate Gorman

FALLSTREETLIGHT SWITCH The sodium-vapor streetlightswith fresnel lenses like lidded eyeshave been replacedwith horseshoe-like arcs of LED lights.As the morning stays dark longerand evening comes on...

Three Poems by Mary Whitlow

Cloth & Sun    Chaos greets me at the door—   broken things swirl,   dust motes through worn curtains,   a breath before the next bruise.   You coil like an old cobra,   fangs...
spot_img