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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,
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.
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.
Heather Holliger

Margins

By Heather Holliger She and I, our silences,
hesitations--at the grocery store,
in the taxi, on the street.
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.
Merna Hecht

Special Effects

By Merna Hecht This morning I am remembering you, how as honored guest
you talked with my students who had recently arrived in America
from refugee camps where borders are stacked with blood and bullets.
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
Zein El-Amine

How to write a poem, according to Souha Bechara

By Zein El-Amine Sit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.
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