Hungry Seasons by Evan Warren
If I could speak in any language
it would be the one winter flirts with
before kissing the fall with its first closed-mouth snow.
A Poem A Day
If I could speak in any language
it would be the one winter flirts with
before kissing the fall with its first closed-mouth snow.
Much noise there is
when two sprightly streams
bump into each other, bringing forth
Refinishing the round oak table
refinished twenty years ago
I stroke the grain so gently
the pattern gets under my skin.
Light, please initiate me into your
occult philosophy. Tell me where
you come from when you penetrate
a dusty window in the morning and
Child at Tobacco Market by Charlotte Matthews Nights I go looking for the whippoorwill but she’s not to be found,
2 a.m. by Michael Pacholski so still a hummingbird fluttered only once in its sleep and was hushed by nest-neighbors
Under a Daylight Moon by Mary Rogers-Grantham At noon, a woman plants lilies. She hums, as if expecting someone to
Night’s Brilliance by Dabir Ahmed Shaikh Stream of consciousness flows on, stars smile on Forms shapes, smiles flit on. Desires