by Terry Trowbridge
The shortest unit of time in my life / was the space between undoing one shoelace / and about to undo the other.
by Sheree La Puma
Give me silence & sadness, a taste of citrus swallowed after a shot, something bitter like daughters who have parted ways.
by Hayden Saunier
I fell in love with a field of rye. / It happened this spring for the first time and I am not young.
by Ellen Romano
My mother has asked me if I see / wild animals around town. / She moves in and out of lucidity
by Justin Hunt
Pollen dusts our yard. The oaks, heavy / with seed, rake the past from wind, / and an old friend’s voice comes to me
by B. Fulton Jennes
Dutch elm disease took its toll / on the once-lush sentinel by our pond— / a titan I often climbed to the very top
by Pam Vap
a white lily / with sails of petals / above the pink blush on the weak stem
by Judy Kaber
It’s been a long two weeks and I’m ready to leave. / I ask myself: / Are you really the man I once married?
by Jackleen Holton
Sleep while the baby sleeps, / they tell you, and so you begin, like one having to learn / everything all over again, to take sleep in small sips
by Karen Paul Holmes
Send it out, send it / to your mother spinning in another universe / your father too