Poetry
by Karin Gottshall.
“The river has its own concerns. It loves / the human form the way fury / loves a stone.”
by Missy-Marie Montgomery.
“The deer stepped out in front of my car /
so politely, as if to say is this a good time? / And it happened that it was, / perfectly timed between cars and patches of ice. /
I braked. She stepped gracefully across…”
by Gaetan Sgro.
“The need to catch up on sleep. An ache to sleep on clean sheets. The prospect of waking up dry.”
by Rebecca Ellis.
“The way I remember it is different / from the way I dream it. / The memory, over years, / becomes rounded at the edges.”
by Cory Brown.
“To see how the snow blanketed the trees / along Taughannock Creek Road, I turned off / Route 96 this morning.”
by Cortney Davis.
“In the darkened room, vision dims. /
The doctor leans close, looks eye to eye; / his light invades my pupil’s rim.”
by Lindsay Wilson.
“Listen, dark one, as the sun sets, / the boxelder beetles come down / from the west wall to fly back…”
by Eileen Elizabeth Waggoner.
“Some of y’all pray to God / I pray to the yellow warblers / and their frail whistling / on wildfire winds…”