Skip to Content
Search Results
Ellen Hagan

Before Your Arrival

By Ellen Hagan the ones who brought your father here, come. Bring
with them whole almonds, dried berries & clementines
wrapped in cloth. Their clothes & smart shoes too.
Purvi Shah

Loss is an art, traversing one world to the next

By Purvi Shah The mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
Meg Eden

factory work: made in china.

By Meg Eden I look for a man's hand inside
the folds of my purse, and find
a pattern that recalls a finger print, the way
Camille T. Dungy

Arthritis is one thing, the hurting another

By Camille T. Dungy The poet's hands degenerate until her cup is too heavy.
You are not required to understand.
This is not the year for understanding.
Marilyn Nelson

Making History

By Marilyn Nelson Somebody took a picture of a class
standing in line to get polio shots,
and published it in the Weekly Reader.
Antoinette Brim

Let Daylight Come (Little Rock, circa 2008)

By Antoinette Brim Let the moon untangle itself
from the clothesline, as coming daylight
diminishes its lamp to memory.
Kathleen O’Toole

Halim, waiting

By Kathleen O'Toole He arrived first as a student of geology
in the bicentennial year.
He witnessed
Judith Arcana

Can Safety Matches Make Us Safe?

By Judith Arcana You read the tiny cardboard book before
you scratch the strip under Augie's New Pizza
on the back of MIA:We still don't know
Penelope Scambly Schott

At the Demonstration

By Penelope Scambly Schott Back when I used to march
in the noon of the green world,
I sang like a crow.
Claire Zoghb

War Story

By Claire Zoghb He’s put the war out of his mind. Shelling and murdered relatives behind him.
Page 16 of 19 pages