Poetry
by Linda Harris Dolan.
“after the pink peonies die, their heads droop, / petals begin their falling, but for days, days / the flower-heads remain mostly intact…”
by Jeanette Clough.
“I am surrounded by streets / half dark, half lit, by high rises / sheathed in metal and glass…”
by Margot Wizansky.
“I’m inside this body that doesn’t work / the way it did before, as if all my angles / were filed down.”
by Chelsea Krieg.
“For minutes,/ I watch his heart: ventricles contracting, / blood pumping – my other silent pulsing center.”
by Haolun Xu.
“She called me to pick her up, but by the time I drove to the block, / three men in total pandemic suits were walking her out.”
by Deborah Golub.
“Think your lungs a forest cleared. /
Your breath winged / as if it had a better place to go…”
by George Looney.
“Any other day / I might give up & swallow every sound / I could utter. Not today, the wind / in cahoots with what I want, / what I need, to believe.”
