JEAN L. KREILING
“The palette loses warmth: the hair gone gray, / the teeth not quite so white”
J.C. SCHARL
“See, along the path those clustered sword-like leaves? / Those are the irises, my son”
ADAM TAVEL
“One horseshoe clangs against an iron spike. / You breathe them in: their glimmered bayonets.”
SALLY THOMAS
“All day the oak came down. The bright air glinted / With fine red sawdust as with locust wings.”
MICHAEL GOODFELLOW
“Cabbage Night that year was bright and humid. / No one around here knows that anymore, / before Hallowe’en, when tricks were played.”
JASON GRAY
“The tonic glows / Blue on the bar”
JOHN PHILIP DRURY
“Red flecks erupt on ash-tree leaves / like the flush on my lover’s neck.”
MARYANN CORBETT
“Perfect: the singers, strings, and keyboards. Perfect // Bruised sky above the tents of the squatters’ district”
LISA BARNETT
“Propagate and fornicate, / procreate and copulate: / Latin for our base desires.”
CYNTHIA ERLANDSON
“My last red rose-of-sharon / Is slowly curling closed”
PEDRO POITEVIN
“It springs from mystery like window dew. / It glows in the abrasion of a match.”
SUSAN MCLEAN
“The first thing she requests post-surgery, / awake but drifting in the morphine glow, / is that my sister turn on the TV”
CAROL FRITH
“My neighbor’s motion lights ignite, / light up the privet tree, the dying firethorn hedge”
ROB WRIGHT
“I wish that all the hours I’ve spent with bores / in heated arguments were mine again.”
RICHARD WAKEFIELD
“An old man at his kitchen window sees / by winter light”
RICHARD WAKEFIELD
“An old man at his kitchen window sees / by winter light”
MARYANN CORBETT
“God? you’re good at taking me as I am? Then / take me this way: craven, pusillanimous”
STEPHEN GIBSON
“If she could see the future, would it matter? / Change things? She might say it would.”
