By Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
1 Plants and rocks lay under night sky; ground is a subject of sky; the relation's a force.
I combine…
I combine…
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- By Doug Gonzalezonly I stood in the rain with wet skin. I could taste the dew though it had not yet found my lips. …
- By Hershman JohnLast Easter, I gave my mother-in-law a large, brown, simple ceramic
Navajo water pot, shiny with pine… - By James JoyceI heard their young hearts crying
Loveward above the glancing oar
And heard the prairie grasses sighing… - By Meredith Strickerin the DMZ ravines north of the Kaesong wastes edging
south of the perfect ruler’s pink and prisoned paradisethere is a climate paying no attention to us where cranes
repopulate serpentine deltas - By Carolyn ForchéThese are your stones, assembled in matchbox and tin,
collected from roadside, culvert, and viaduct,
battlefield… - By Timothy DonnellyAnd though we had fed long and well at the table
the talk always turned to whether to go on
regardless… - By Andrew FrisardiPRIMEAt dawn, the shapes of cypresses in fog
Were fingers pointing up from graves, as if what's born… - By Don Domanski*
clouds creak in the sky
herons creak in the sky.
*
the dark approaches itself
from all sides once again… - By Peter O’LearyIn a wind
the lake's scissoring surface
and the Sun's vernal glare
the gulls cut to curls
in their turns… - By James JoyceHe travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they … - By Peter O’LearyThe great spastic glass of the Sun
in winter's going glare. :: Wind's antic helicoid
winding upward through… - By William OlsenMy father bought us this trip, he'd taken it, he wanted to give us an experience,
our eyes to see for… - By Tilsa OttaTranslated By Farid MatukI saw a herd of toads in the gully of my reflection
Staring at each other arguing over insects
It wasn… - By Tilsa OttaVi una manada de sapos mirándose entre ellos
Discutiendo insectos en el cauce de mi reflejo
No fue rom… - By Bertrand N. O. WalkerLonely, open, vast and free,
The dark'ning desert lies;
The wind sweeps o'er it fiercely,
And the yellow… - By Emily Wilsonstripped batting of cloud
glimpsed ligaments
dusk coming up under
lithographic, nib-hatchings
instruments click
the fine-sprung locust
replicate dinge along hill-lines
tailings of umber, the rust smudge
There is still that hemmed ocean of oaks
the various reds, the somehow
silver cast over the... - By Stephen Ratcliffelight coming into fog against invisible
top of ridge, blue jay on redwood fence
in foreground, sound of wave in channel
starting from this concept,
anything that is not
on... - By Cole Swensena river slips
in shifting leaves
sifting. a river sifts
and falls to pieces
in which not seen
... - By Emily BrontëO transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a prisoner lies?
Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this morning's brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing...