Sunday Kind of Love
By Truth ThomasShayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Truth ThomasShayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
By Philip MetresHow a Basra librarian
could haul the books each night,
load by load, into her car,
By Emily K. BrightIt is nearly midnight and I'm
scrubbing at the grout.
The dishes, washed,
By Margaret RozgaLet there be drums and harps,
piccolos and flutes, violins,
banjos and guitars.
By Meg EdenI look for a man's hand inside
the folds of my purse, and find
a pattern that recalls a finger print, the way
By Camille T. DungyThe poet's hands degenerate until her cup is too heavy.
You are not required to understand.
This is not the year for understanding.
By Marilyn NelsonSomebody took a picture of a class
standing in line to get polio shots,
and published it in the Weekly Reader.
By Antoinette BrimLet the moon untangle itself
from the clothesline, as coming daylight
diminishes its lamp to memory.
By Kathleen O'TooleHe arrived first as a student of geology
in the bicentennial year.
He witnessed
By Nahshon CookThen he explained
how the Buddha
instructed us
to reflect on the body