Bliss
by Jill Evans
In the cool morning, bright-hot now from his bath, / my child’s child leans into my lap
How Unbecoming
by Katie Tunning
I’m sorry for saying the heat death of the universe / when you asked what comforted me most
For My Siren
by Emily Bornstein
Don’t tell me there isn’t something pretty about you / (don’t tell me you don’t know it).
Promise
by Lynn McGee
I cradle him, big kid curled like an infant, water rocking, / chlorine staunching his vivid knees, belly swollen, / legs blue.
Upper Peninsula
by Andrew Hemmert
If the places you go become you, / you must account for the drive-through / liquor store housed in the old carwash.
Nevermore
by Katie Manning
“And you know what the raven says.”
On Learning That My Daughter’s Rapist Has Been Taught to Write a Poem
by Katharyn Howd Machan
about his sadness. / About how the moon hung full / that morning, every morning
When You Are Invisible, You Can Say Anything
by Valentina Gnup
At sixty-one, I count and recount my remaining summers.
When We Believed the World Wouldn’t End
by Benjamin Cutler
After the final harvest, the forecast / called for freezing temperatures / and the end of this winsome world.
Ode to a Bee on the Small of Your Back
by Partridge Boswell
Blind to what tickles the delta of nerves there / you rub a humming with the back of your hand
It all began around a campfire…
Beautiful language
is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.
Contributor Spotlight:
Love and Hot Chicken
by Mary Liza Hartong
Open Contests
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review