Amateur Poet · American Culture · Contemporary · Online Anthology · Online Magazine · Periodical · Poetry · Prose Poetry

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

Rate this:

American Culture · American Literature · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Online Anthology · Online Magazine · Periodical · Poetry

Mary Rose O’Reilley

When he uncovers fiddleheads by the spring, why does he always think of that first sight of her thigh in the peach-colored dress, of his hand’s searching moss with its red-gold stamens, the spring in that arid landscape like something from Canaan under his tongue? — Mary Rose O’Reilley, from “The Abandoned Farm,” Poetry (2007)

Rate this: