Day at the Pond Without Geese
By Jeff GundyA 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.
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Build You Up
By Alison Roh ParkIf it were not so scarred from your accidental
rages—uptown, upstate—I would have rested
on the cinder block of your chest.
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By Lauren K. AlleyneHere is the night snarled with stars, here is the smile
full of teeth. Here is the bloom of desire, its scent swift
entering everything. Here are the arms, the legs, the heady
Daisy Cutter
By Camille T. DungyPause here at the flower stand-mums
and gladiolas, purple carnations
dark as my heart.
Maine
By Carly SachsWhere does memory go?
Our windows looking out on the bay,
my wet clothes hanging on the antlers
Prayer of the Backhanded
By Jericho BrownNot the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God
Understanding Tina Turner
By Tara BettsQuiet girl found a voice mama could not quell
inside Nutbush City Limits. The baby
blasted beyond timid Annie Mae into Tina
That Pomegranate Shine
By Lori DesrosiersI was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
Note from a Prodigal Son III
By Randall HortonThe gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)
By Philip MetresIn the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis