Dear End of Terror,

By Vanessa Huang May you rest
In peace
This night

At Home

By Don Share Greetings to the red-eyed clouds
from this, the house that sits
on the mound and faces the corner

By Melissa Tuckey Two slight young women--
the smaller one
reaches for hands

By Ailish Hopper Each time, Kenny says
With Love,
I look at you, I see

By Ching-In Chen The teacher straightbacked,
faced me off, her eyes.
My face in the cleave of
her shoulder, my bones

By Persis M. Karim Their sons who speak of a cause
As if it were their two feet
beneath them. That they could hold an idea

By Rashida James-Saadiya we scatter
dodge words that rip into flesh
hide from clenched fist

By Joseph O. Legaspi slides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me

By Alison Roh Park If it were not so scarred from your accidental
rages—uptown, upstate—I would have rested
on the cinder block of your chest.

By Camille T. Dungy Pause here at the flower stand-mums
and gladiolas, purple carnations
dark as my heart.