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By Kim Roberts
Hundreds of tiny fry
crowd the single tank,
churning the water milky.
The fry grow to parr
By JP Howard
black women we be trying to hold worlds
on our backs, in our hearts without fail
some days we fail at perfection
By Purvi Shah
You had a name no one
could hold between their
teeth. So they pronounced
By Jane Hirshfield
As things grow rarer, they enter the ranges of counting.
Remain this many Siberian tigers,
that many African elephants. Three hundred red egrets.
By Linda Hogan
I thank the eagle and Old Mother for this prayer
I send to earth and sky
and the sacred waters. I thank Old Mother
and the golden eagle, the two who taught me to pray
By Ross Gay
This poem is in video format.
By Luis Alberto Ambroggio
Poetry might never have seen
that categorical word,
but in its charged belligerence
of emotions and in its profound determination,
By Clint Smith
There is a lake here.
A lake the size of
outstretched arms. And no,
not the type of arms raised
By Veronica Golos
Have I stepped back in time, or forward?
A graveled road, hovering flags, the sound
of waves against chunk rock -- and
voices billow into birds,