Karla A
Night breathed the hollow smoke of longing, — Karla A., “untitled“, July 2020
Category: Amateur Poet
Joshua Gage
The last taste on your tongue beforeit turns toward me. Mountains fold,seas surrender, cities ceaseand I, alone, remain. When the starsat last flare out, I cling to the dark.I am the fabric you first were folded from.Remember, you return to me. — Joshua Gage, “Dust” Abraxas #47, 2010 Issue. (Abraxas Press)
Bob Sykora
As if love hadn’t led me here, so awakewith all this time to hold and nowhere to put it. — Bob Sykora, from “I Have My First Vision in the Middle of the Night,” The Shore (no. 2, Summer 2019)
Laura Straub
We go into the trees and find a field of wildflowers. Singing, we pick, pick apart and pull together until heaps of flowers fall out of our arms. Milkweed, queen anne’s lace, indigo, poppies, buttercups. Daisies, lavender, bulbous eyebright, until there are none left. Ants and aphids crawl down our backs like sweat. Bees and… Continue reading Laura Straub
Molly Spencer
And the plum tasted something like a heart should taste—deep, red, sweet and tart together.” — Molly Spencer, from “Self-Portrait as Something Like a Heart,” The New England Review (vol. 38, no. 4, 2017)
Dominic Riccitello
I used to love September, but now it just rhymes with remember. ― Dominic Riccitello
The Vale of Soul-Making 