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Holly Karapetkova There never was a garden
only a leaving:
miles and miles
of footprints in the dirt.
Patrick Rosal A brisk sunset walk home: Lafayette Ave.
After weeks straight of triple layers
and double gloves, the day has inched
Craig Santos Perez kaikainaliʻi wakes from her late afternoon nap
and reaches for nālani with small open hands—
count how many papuan children
still reach for their disappeared parents—
Rachel Eliza Griffiths I pick you up
& you are a child made of longing
clasped to my neck. Iridescent,
lovely, your inestimable tantrums,
David Ebenbach What you want, at least, is the dignity
of a Sisyphus—you want to see yourself
on a hilltop, your muscles and hands
afire and chest roaring for breath, and
Leslie Anne Mcilroy (1) to form by heating and hammering; beat into shape, as in the child’s back
burning, shoulders of flame, ribs of shame till she is no longer what she
was, but what you want her to be; 2) to form or make, especially by
concentrated effort, as in pride, see the girl, my girl, take credit, look what I
Naomi Ayala Naomi Ayala performs the poem "Within Me" at the 2008 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Homero Aridjis Homero Aridjis performs "The Prophesy of Man" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Maria Melendez Kelson Maria Melendez Kelson reads "For Light So Loved the World She Gave it More" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Yusef Komunyakaa Yusef Komunyakaa reads "Islands" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.