Persimmons by Max Reif How did persimmons get that reputation for puckering your mouth? When ripe, they're sweet as mangoes. Should any of us be judged before we're ripe? Max Reif was first surprised to pull his car over and... Continue Reading →
Migration by Kay Robertson Old man’s pleasures: a warm stove, hot tea, a pipe; despite my quilted robe, I shiver. High overhead, migrating geese mutter as they fly south over snowy fields My grandsons run red-cheeked in biting cold, pause... Continue Reading →
buyer must bring imagination by Sara Clancy ~ after Marc Chagall clearly this house should be upside down and balanced on its gable, while goats play green fiddles and old men hunker down in a sky of gypsy colors there... Continue Reading →
White-out by Anne Westlund In a blinding snowstorm I can’t see more than two feet ahead of me or two feet behind fingers and toes frostbitten, forgot my coat. Alone. How did I get here? In my robe, slippers and... Continue Reading →
AT DAWN by Joan Colby The sky grays, a developing photograph Under our fingers in the acid bath, The enamel pan, infra-red Glow of the shuttered darkroom. Like bats, slices of film hang Suspended with clothes pins. Here we charm... Continue Reading →
The Girl Next Door By PD Lyons When I remember Third floor windows Tall white lace sails Summer all running in our veins Her mother in the kitchen Making cool aid and plate full of something Cookie sweet to eat... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 