By: Andrew Campbell The following was written as I stood on a hidden hill off the Natchez Trace Parkway, about four miles into an overgrown trail. It remains, and will always remain, as it was when I scribbled it on…
By: Paweł Markiewicz there are finitely October-idesmeek shooting stars – the friends of nighttimehave fallen aforethe visit of themorning star – the boon VenusI was able to feel theireyesome miraculous silencea dreamier eviternitybelongs to meI can think of its waking…
By: Elinor Clark Fret A strange misfitted longing I neatly fold awaypairing memories as socks beforeI place them, tidy, in the drawer. You fret too much, you always saidlike the seasoggy brume cleaving blue.Think too hard and of coursethings look…
By Bill Arnott Alfred Wallis I drop to a knee, graveside. Behind me blue-green water thrashes unseen reefwith granite stacks and blackened blocks of basaltsending streamers strafing skywardtowering ivory ribbons splashing frothy whitereversing ocean-liner celebration out to sea The grave…
By: RC deWinter in the shadowland you stalk my dreams,an incubus in nothing but a loincloth,laughing softly as you chase medown unfamiliar pathsuntil, finally,you capture me, holding meby my wrists. i’m frightened but i don’t want to flee.i want to…
By: David Francis The Bridge You were the one step further, you were the bridgeyou led me out to blue sky from a ledge I called out to a friend along the wayand I confessed to him my sorrow-lay yet…
By: Diya Wadhwana Evoke the light withinWhich never got shone,Road to cross; without sinThat we all walk alone. Some plains to walk,Some highways to lift,Some valleys to blockYet pass them without drift, Vehicles might knock you down,Stay away; from them…
By: Kate LaDew after reading and not understanding a word I hand the poem back, nodding, yes, yes, exactlyand it seems enoughas it has always been enough for meanother human voice saying yes, yes, that’s it exactly ### you talk…
By: Yearn Hong Choi My beloved auntie slipped out of my life since I made a call last timefrom America to Korea many years ago.When I tried to get in touch with her after a long while,I found she passed…
By: Phoebe Marrall These I saw: small onions laidwith their root discs punctuatingthe longitude poles. Polar caps,yes, navels to the earth wheretheir buried unions still hold. That space along the stalls,unpeopled on this damp morning,stops me (for it insists), with…