“Our moms were widows before they met our fathers. / Their hair blue-black, their hands already chapped, caressed” | by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke
- Veins (extracts) // Nervures (extraits)
“a little like how a sentry in the night / paces to keep himself awake” | Selections from poet-artist Hamid Tibouchi’s Nervures in English and French.
- Villanelles: ‘Putting a Question to Spring’
“We only have copies, but they, too, stun / with the ever-out-of-reach, the waylaid poem” | by Jacqueline Osherow
- After “The Day After My Father’s Death”
“Explain quarantine to children, / says the headline. If they could / read, we could leave the truth / lying around for them” | by Dora Malech
by Adrienne Rich: Dark blue shot with death rays but only a short distance
by Adrienne Rich: In the old city incendiaries abound / who hate this place stuck to their footsoles
by Jane Blue: He was picking up pine cones for a cockatiel. / She was a ghostly film unwinding.
- Vernal House
by Maurya Simon: Tiny minarets of dew balance on blade-tips.
by Maurya Simon: Slowly, like a hot tear tracing the skin’s folds, / God drew His finger along my parted lips,
by Stanley Moss: Until the rain takes over my life I’ll never change, / although I know by heart the Lord’s Prayer and the prayer Christ prayed