A Loon Calling on South Branch Lake When I need to hear it most, I walk down to the dock in the back of my brain where calm water waits and listen, the world grinding itself on around me, bobbing... Continue Reading →
Tracing I made an image of you from stone I cast away what did not look lovely but was left with a lack of satisfaction in the copy. About the Poet: Nate Maye is a rising poet from Texas.... Continue Reading →
Table Who do you groan When I lean on you With my arms? You were so strong When you were a tree Bending & weaving In terrible winds While gripping the Earth with deep root Fingers From day 3 of... Continue Reading →
Were You With Me Were you with me when the army of peace fled the field When the cause and the purpose ran out ++++++++When our culture couldn't bless us ++++++++When the darker world undressed us Were you with me... Continue Reading →
The press for place I was working to understand that gravity that works both unseen and seen at funerals, giving way here to other direction, to other courts of madness, other losses dwelt on. ++++++++++But, then, place is found within.... Continue Reading →
Wise Tailor Eating alone again I work my way down the sizes in my closet Make regular trips to the tailor To have waistbands taken in When I walk in with you The tailor assures me, “Should you need it,... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 