Foal

by Lois P. Jones

In your next life you will be / birthed in needles / of hoarfrost, your eyes still / in the blue gauze between

The Mourner’s Song

by Roy White

You can die in January if you want, / and lots of people do, but this far north, / nobody gets into the ground till spring.

Grace

by Joseph Fasano

You’ve seen them in the deep sleep / of the season: figures sitting in a garden, / light on their faces as you enter.

America

by Katherine Riegel

I never dreamt of you but of your parts: / my flatland home, the mountains my mother loved, / beach where I could look out and see only not-you.

Turbulence

by Maggie Smith

The sky shakes us / like a shoe with a stone inside. / Even the smallest stone hurts.

If I Have a Daughter

by April Ford

If I could have a daughter, / it would be my life goal to make sure she never—not in a million years ever— / confused one kind of touch for another.

Improv

by Roy White

Let’s make a wedding photo, you and I. / I’m blind and you weren’t there, but between us / we can do this.

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