Landscapes that Remind Me of My Children / Pasajes que me Recuerdan a Mis Hijos
By Lourdes GalvánUtica is a pretty and quiet country
When I was at the bus station
my son would say to me, 'mom, I am hungry'
and a man who was sweeping came up to me
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Self-Portrait as Vincent Van Gogh in the Asylum at Arles
By Roger ReevesThe moths in the orchard squeal
with each pass of the mistral wind.
Yet the reapers and their scythes,
out beyond the pear trees, slay wheat
Theodicy
By Joshua BennettWhen yet another one of your kin falls,
you question God’s wingspan, the architecture
of mercy.
Elegy
By Rachel Eliza GriffithsI remember the boys & their open hands. High fives
of farewell. I remember that the birches waved too,
the white jagged limbs turning away from incessant wildfires
bitter crop
By Kelli Stevens Kaneblueberry blackberry as always
bleeding, back road or boulevard,
our boy crowned with baton,
Art Project: Earth
By Karen SkolfieldBalloon, then papier mâché.
Gray paint, blue and turquoise, green,
a clouded world with fishing line attached
Amphibians
By Joseph O. LegaspiAmphibians live in both.
Immigrants leave their land,
hardening in the sea.
Out of water.
Set the Garden on Fire
By Chen ChenMy friend’s new neighbors in the suburbs
are planting a neat row of roses
between her house & theirs.
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Hija
By Ruth Irupé SanabriaI am the daughter of doves
That disappeared into dust
Hear my pulse whisper: