In her clapboard house with hard-packed dirt floors.
In this place of ghostly waking, my grandmother
rises from dark slumber, already dressed, her hair
combed over each ear, held by minnow silver
“Alba for Donatila,” by Virgil Suárez Read More »
We never saw
such a beautiful house,
though it dipped toward the sea,
though it shook and creaked,
though it said to the rain: come in!
“On Losing a House,” by Mary Oliver Read More »
As a dog seizes his prey,
having felt the first
thrill of the scent give way in long pursuit
to tedium and frustration, feeling now
the sweet exhilarating rage of capture—
“Likeness,” by Garth Greenwell Read More »
Polio, Ebola, and fresh new diseases in desiccated Eden,
the neighborhood a locus of explosions, our nation
now the nation of murderous event, unlicensed carrying
on on on.
“Dreamland Saint,” by Kathleen Winter Read More »
I drew wildebeest on the caves at Lascaux;
I lived a grim life
hunting peccary and maize
in some godforsaken mudhole in the veldt.
“Ode to the Alien,” by Diane Ackerman Read More »
“I am arms and legs, pulse, / and my secret interior that has said nothing this time, nothing bad.”
“Reading the Smithsonian Magazine,” by Fleda Brown Read More »
Men standing out in storms,
talking,
telling us how violent the wind is,
showing us they can still stand up to it
“The Weather Channel,” by Dan Gerber Read More »
Here, the trees pay their respects, mourn openly,
wear dreadlocks of hanging Spanish moss
sun bleached ash-blue and swaying; in seawind
they become prayer shawls
salted with dust, grief threads of every kind
“Yom Hashoah in Florida,” by Rick Hilles Read More »
Oh, life of clay! Oh, century’s death throes!
I am afraid only he will understand you
Who wears the helpless human smile of a man
Who has exhausted himself.
“January 1, 1924,” by Osip Mandelstam Read More »
Somewhere in the world
something is happening
which will make its slow way here.
“Somewhere in the World,” by Linda Pastan Read More »
