“Gulls kettle in the steam /rising from what, / from meters up, must seem / like tea bags but / for the smell”
Quatrains
“We plod in numb, arthritic steps—uphill / at first to make returning easier.”
“We watched the colors break and spread / At what would be our passion’s peak”
ISABEL VANDER BLEEK
“I gave up alcohol for Lent / And took up cigarettes. / My choice was met with loud dissent, / In vaguely loving threats.”
SPENCER HUPP
“Hedge of high sumac that fences the yard / May you be fetid by spring from poor keeping”
RICHARD WAKEFIELD
“An old man at his kitchen window sees / by winter light”
DAVID MIDDLETON
“Fall skies glow pink and golden on a ground / Prepared and worked”
STEPHEN KAMPA
“Beloved woman, beautiful and scared”
RYAN WILSON
“He’s happiest on weekends in the fall, / Those quiet afternoons”
JENNIFER ANNA GOSETTI FERENCEI
“Among our trees the devilish gypsy moth / scatters still-green leaves like scraps of cloth”
RICHARD O’CONNELL
“Depletion haunted him: things running down, / As if there were no spare parts in the world”
CATHERINE SAVAGE BROSMAN
“Full moon, full river now — a mountain tide / at flood stage and still rising”
