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Beth Copeland

Cerberus

By Beth Copeland What do the howling hounds hear that we can't?
The moon sharpens its sword on the Earth's stone.
Palm trees on the shores of the Tigris stand sentinel,
Richard Blanco

Looking for The Gulf Motel

By Richard Blanco The Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts
and ship's wheel in the lobby should still be
rising out of the sand like a cake decoration.
Patricia Monaghan

Red-Tailed Hawk

By Patricia Monaghan Just past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.
Gowri Koneswaran

Hold

By Gowri Koneswaran we're taught to hold hands
when we cross the street
or walk with our mothers in parking lots or
Rachel Simon

Postmark from the Transition

By Rachel M. Simon the name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
Margaret Rozga

Prayer at Plymouth Church

By Margaret Rozga Let there be drums and harps,
piccolos and flutes, violins,
banjos and guitars.
Daniela Elza

poppies are not (Enough

By Daniela Elza I drink a blood sunset down Cardinal Avenue.
my shoes soaked poppies my mind quiet as
a book with a bomb in its mouth.
celeste doaks

American Herstory

By celeste doaks Tell them it's always under attack. Tell them there's no cure
for the disease, or answer to the riddle. Tell them you asked many
before you, some who won, some who lost.
Jonathan B. Tucker

The Sign

By Jonathan B. Tucker pardon our appearance
as we grow to better serve you
says the sign on the fence
Kamilah Aisha Moon

Notes on a Mass Stranding

By Kamilah Aisha Moon Huge dashes in the sand, two or three
times a year they swim like words
in a sentence toward the period
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