Steve Denehan

Steve Denehan

A Poem from My Mother to My Father The way you standcrooked, stoopedin doorwaysunsure of where, why, what the way you asked mejust last weekif we knew each other the way I have to dress youwash youtell youthe time, the day, the season the way you look at melast...
Elisabeth Murawski

Elisabeth Murawski

To Grieve Like Kollwitz That night in mid-January,I prayed to the Godof waiting rooms, swimming for my life,and yours.I can still summon that fear,waking before dawnwith tears and cries for help,a litanyof the impoverished. The silencesurrounded uslike an absence I...
Mike Everley

Mike Everley

Soul Music3 – Swallows My uncle and I flew paper swallows from the high bedroom window. They caught the lifting wind, drifted above the narrow road and pointed metal railings that had somehow escaped the Spitfire Fund, into the small park with its swings, roundabout...
Emma Simon

Emma Simon

Lullaby I want a slow horse. Those heavy-hoofed kindsthat used to drag a plough across a fieldor haul the beer drays through the town. I’d sit up high, proud as an empresswith reins in hand, an easy sway of hipsrollicking like hills from side-to-side. We’d walk the...
Jodi Cadenhead

Jodi Cadenhead

The Best is Yet to Come Everyone agreed it was the polar caps,that went first, followed bythe Colorado River and the birds – pretty much, all of them,not to mention the pandas, the monarch butterfliesand the green sea turtles. But what really got our attention,were...