Abundance; For Charlie
I am suddenly shy with you today,
poetry
An Approximation
A lightness is travelling towards you
In the Dark
The door, scarred from knocking
The Fire Place
You show me, brother, the field stones
The Apparition/ The Field
Someone stole in, leaving flowers.
Rooster
I like the way the rooster lifts his feet
Awaited One
My mother christened me in bitter ponds.
A Spring Poem
The ice is rotten, it is sick with itself
The Lie
It was a lie.
Hunger
Hands.
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
