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Distance

by Ag Synclair red river desert accipitridae seek food the spoils of war accipitridae

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Klopp Lake Takes the Prize

by Neal Whitman Susurrus of red. Marbled godwits overhead whoosh onto the mud flats. A wind from nowhere. Amazement of avocets fly over. We whisper reverently.

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The Red & the Black

By Joseph Milosch Olive-skinned under bar lights, a woman stands straightening her red shorts. She removes black glass earrings, shows them to me, saying, Apache tears from Utah. She places them on a napkin, turns them into the light. My ex gave them to me, naturally shaped like tears. Picking one up by its gold […]

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The Garden

by Phebe Davidson I watched a hawk stoop hard for prey. The other day I saw him blast a squirrel’s nest, saw the drift and splinters shiver on morning air. I saw the yard empty and heard no sound one long minute, nothing stirred or sang. Then, in that charged space, one raucous jay.

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Of All Things

by Allan Peterson Of all things water needs least, is proof yet here is a morning grey as if awakened in masonry my once vivid dreams now piled aside rusting buttes and mesas the picturesque textbooks of waterwear as when in my writing paper covers rock There is a dog deep in the yard with […]

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Circus

by Salvatore Buttaci Thin long poems Wear tall stilts To keep their heads Above the crowds In someone’s life A tragedy Can make  clowns Out of poems

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Posthumous Poem 95

by Susan Dion When you asked me so many years ago you smiled satisfied saying, no one can get mad at you. How funny, but your green eyes solemnized the moment. Was the Hurricane of `38 a mere drizzle? Laugh with me.

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The Way It Was

by Joseph Milosch It began in the morning one went to the wash room and saw his bud. They exchanged flight duty so that his friend could go to the Bob Hope show. One returned to his hutch had a beer went to the mission review. Afterwards, he drank a cold beer, and as the […]

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A Family Reunion in Florida

aby Joseph Milosch Seven uncles and aunts outlived by seven uncles and aunts. Shadows lighter than their children’s silhouettes.

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The Myth of Sisyphus (Tanka Prose)

by Chen-ou Liu people awake work, eat, and sleep the Mondays of present follow the rhythm of the Sundays in past Blank years in and out. This is daily life. And then the sudden moment of being: the stab of memories, the sting of longings, the slaughter of time. There is no screaming tragedy in […]

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In the ER with my Father

by Michael Gullickson I touched your forehead for the last time, and willed you to recognize I was there. They said the ocean of your brain had stilled, no more waves, rolling to the shore. That no man or machine, could ever stir them again. Choose to disconnect, they said, let go. I touched your […]

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Otter Art

by joseph Milosch Stretched like a log a statue of an otter seems to smile as sea gulls walk across its side. Besides the birds, cats, kids, a few teenagers use it for a walk way. Every once in a while a shy lover rubs its head like a pet; instead, of the skilled navigator […]

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What My Stepson Couldn’t Say

by Persis M. Karim I hate you because you aren’t my mother and even though you didn’t pretend to be her, you gave more of what I needed. And I hate you now because I don’t’ know how to hate her and you aren’t my mother.

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Evidence

by Chrissie Burke when I told him about how a single flower symbolizes a dead child’s existance he was flabbergasted and enraged because the substance supporting hope became evidence supporting hopelessness.

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What Does A Man Do

By Joseph Milosch As a young man in the seminary, Father Martin asked us to meditate on this question, What does a man do when he’s alone with his aloneness? At seventeen I felt so alone I was embarrassed to say: Because I can’t sleep, I walked through the maples every morning between 3:30 and […]

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