And Now Let Us Go Into The Garden
by Helene Swarts Light, like spilled milk, spreads near our feet making little circles. Soon the moon will bring another cast. Come, let us go
Aftermath
by Helene Swarts Like orphans dreaming mothers out of their soup Like the pauper’s mouth moving when the rich man swallows We expect the moon.
War
by Helene Swarts Light no longer colors the leaves, blending green into grace. Evil, as unremarkable as ever, silts over the streams. Children