Category: Winter 2015 Poetry
Debtless
by Kevin Rabas When the loan officer shakes my hand, his hand is a big mitt, ham shank, boxer’s big thick grip, and, though he’s kindly, he’s
My Son
by Greg McBride A toddler sprawls across his mother’s slim and lovely lap, his hair a reddish gold, his face a whim of freckles. His hands softly
Moving Day
by Greg McBride It was a moving day, the barn–raising commune of that time. Afterward, we all milled about her new apartment, mugs and
Buddies for Life
by Greg McBride Buddies for Life summer 1961 Squealing rubber slick out of McDonald’s, our gang of four sixteens, two cars, tears
Exile
by Robert Kennedy Listen. The key is turning In the derelict lock. Remember. The exile is strange And knocks softly on the door, Not wishing to
Darkroom
by Robert Kennedy Once familiar objects turn hostile In this cubic void of dark space. Bloodless hands reach from angular sleeves, My throat
Field Grief
by M. P. Jones IV Late in the darkness startled by the sound of what could have been the bleating of a young calf the one my father bottle fed
Checklist
by Douglas K. Currier Start by giving away the good things, the accumulated of value. Choose carefully, and do it slowly. Say that you are
The Day the Wind Took Up and Carried
by Marcia F. Brown Barely dawn and a new bird with a lunatic song is perched outside my window — six startling–shrill
e. e.
by Marcia F. Brown i. i. think u.u. would have loved this texting tweeting like a broken bird scattering the chaff