Skip to Content
Search Results
Patricia Spears Jones

Autumn, New York, 1999

By Patricia Spears Jones And I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear
Tiffany Higgins

Aeneas & the pilgrim child set out into the city

By Tiffany Higgins I shall build a city upon a hill
and upon a hill and upon a hill and upon a hill
I am a little shepherd piping low
Jeff Gundy

Day at the Pond Without Geese

By Jeff Gundy A good day for late wildflowers--daisies and burrs
leaned out into the path for a better view, brilliant
blue somethings with tiny blooms on tall stalks.
Alison Roh Park

Build You Up

By Alison Roh Park If it were not so scarred from your accidental
rages—uptown, upstate—I would have rested
on the cinder block of your chest.
Heather Davis

29 Men

By Heather Davis The lights in your home channel 29 men, their
soot stained clothes, last breaths, crystalline sweat
let loose on black rock
Gregory Pardlo

Antebellum

By Gregory Pardlo Unfinished, the road turns off the fill
from the gulf coast, tracing the bay, to follow
the inland waterway.
Chris August

Oil: A Love Poem

By Chris August America, don’t we love like oil?
Don’t our slippery arms
Pave the pores of those who need us?
Camille T. Dungy

Daisy Cutter

By Camille T. Dungy Pause here at the flower stand-mums
and gladiolas, purple carnations
dark as my heart.
Jody Bolz

Mutanabbi Street

By Jody Bolz Pages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.
Carly Sachs

Maine

By Carly Sachs Where does memory go?
Our windows looking out on the bay,
my wet clothes hanging on the antlers
Page 29 of 31 pages