Crystal Pigs, by Allison Brice
I took my breakup quietly, like a pitiful February rain with no lightning.
Changing Hearts, by David Watts
I heard for the second time / the news of his heart transplant, / details like a post card from a foreign country
by Barbara P. Greenbaum
There is a woman in the booth next to us. / She looks at me as I remove my new hat.
by Renee Agatep
When she finally dies / she’ll meekly ask God why was it all / clattering highchairs, whiskers on stained sinks
by David Watts
At Jenner-by-the-Sea we scurry / over boulders to the place / where the breakers bear down
by Rebecca Foust
I made soup tonight, with cabbage, chard / and thyme picked outside our back door.
by Melissa Hart
On the Friday before Election Day, I shivered on the side of a busy street in Eugene, Oregon wearing a costume from the Disney film Frozen and holding a giant orange sign that read “Do You Want to Build a Democracy?”
by Joseph Fasano
You sit at a window and listen to your father / crossing the dark grasses of the fields
by Roy Bentley
When Dave Wheeler fielded the hard one-hopper / to short, he fired the ball to Melvin White
by Jill Evans
In the cool morning, bright-hot now from his bath, / my child’s child leans into my lap
by Katie Tunning
I’m sorry for saying the heat death of the universe / when you asked what comforted me most
by Maureen Simons
They came back every year to lay flowers at the spot. Two little girls, hand in hand, walked soundlessly up Nora’s driveway.