Poetry
Poetry
What small song do you sing under your breath that is only for you?
Poem of the Week
With your hands in the air you held an infant tightly, trying to save it.
Poem of the Week
Mistaking water hemlock for parsley, I die hours later in the hospital.
Poem of the Week
I’m guilty—locating my gratitude against someone else’s suffering.
Poem of the Week
Anything can happen because everything happens in New York.
Poem of the Week
How High Is the Moon? Too high to be touched, too high to be felt.
Poetry
I had that feeling of being young again, immortal, wearing a magic war shirt.
Poem of the Week
I read that poem twice, didn’t I? I must have wanted to hear it again.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
The knife in my mother’s hand flakes into penny-stained rust.
Poem of the Week
Mild nights would have us out of doors—at their opening I am rapt.
Poem of the Week
I have a maple in the yard and from time to time all is distant.
Poem of the Week
Salve, salve, Regina. As the song ends, he folds into the fabric seat.
Poem of the Week
Sometimes you weren’t a good daughter, the mother says.
iPoems
Cheer and cheer and cheer she sings a song on nesting wings.
Poem of the Week
As our friendship declined into torture, the prairie grew hotter.
Poetry
Ink to paper, she is inventory, has a price tag. A piece to catalog.
Poem of the Week
She’s coming back, her arms full of the flowers I gave her once a year.
Poem of the Week
The dead men don’t look like themselves or anybody else.
iPoems
The truth has always been thus and the response the same.
Poem of the Week
How bright and eager they appear, how ready to get started.
Poem of the Week
Men can’t sense like that. Or won’t. Even a father don’t dare get that close.
Poem of the Week
It doesn’t matter who he is. I don’t think about him much anymore.
Poetry Contest Winners
through the trees, breathless, the grouse leads us steady as a rope.
Poetry
Some days it seems like enough to look in the glass for glazed relief.
Poetry Contest Winners
I watched to see how the others lived, not knowing I was the Other.
Poem of the Week
The horse is in the air, her legs withdrawn, a diamond shape.
Poetry
These days I watch the world go by and do not breathe life into it.
Poem of the Week
I believe you get to see a sunset once. Death, well, I’ve lost count.
