Morning These trees are fallen and the sky fell with them. A hawk spreads one wing, then the other. Everything means something, even this. About the Poet: Tom Montag is the author of In This Place: Selected Poems... Continue Reading →
On Evening Walks Every night my way home takes me past houses running the dryer, blowing warm laundry sheet smell into the calm night. Most scents exist in any state and can be bought in small boxes with pictures of... Continue Reading →
Night Drive When we felt the sun sink into Smuggler’s Cove we met dead pirates plotting and for treasure we dove. When we smelled stars in the sky above Joy Valley Street we devoured cakes made of laughter then floated... Continue Reading →
New Constellations The past’s signpost casts a crooked shadow. I’ve done lost-scout-in-the-woods- comes-full-circle-round more than once back to that jagged stile. I paint that post blue with gold letters that point to tomorrow and plant a sweet potato vine for... Continue Reading →
Home Coming To go back to your hometown and find it doesn’t recognize you. To see your old house bedraggled like hand-me-downs left to Goodwill – gutters stripped, azaleas gone for no good reason except it’s not your home. To... Continue Reading →
One Million Solar Masses Crows, murderous and coughing, leave the evening wire meeting with an arrhythmic beating no body could contain. I forget the slow work of machines until a mole turns over some dirt, miniature and persistent in its... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 