Sunday Kind of Love
By Truth ThomasShayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
Search Results
Loaded
By Patricia MonaghanThey were always taught that all guns were loaded.
It was a way, he said, to keep them safe.
Don't you notice, he said, how people get shot
Things I Carried Coming Into the World
By Remica L. BinghamThe weight of my parents,
the dawn of them;
my grandmother's lackluster
Hearing of Alia Muhammed Baker’s Stroke
By Philip MetresHow a Basra librarian
could haul the books each night,
load by load, into her car,
Cerberus
By Beth CopelandWhat 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,
Red-Tailed Hawk
By Patricia MonaghanJust past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.
Prayer at Plymouth Church
By Margaret RozgaLet there be drums and harps,
piccolos and flutes, violins,
banjos and guitars.
poppies are not (Enough
By Daniela ElzaI drink a blood sunset down Cardinal Avenue.
my shoes soaked poppies my mind quiet as
a book with a bomb in its mouth.
American Herstory
By celeste doaksTell 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.
Special Effects
By Merna HechtThis 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.