how was it that he would want to earn her ,a second wife?
desire
the way he would shear at my father's sheep
every muscle bent
and his neck throbbing
a hidden sun from some distant blessing
desire
even as he ate the food i would prepare
with his fingers held mid air
at times
the only talking between us
how was it then . . .
into our nights where
everything practical
measured became
for every son i bore him
the war i could never win
Lift My Chin, Lord
Lift my chin, Lord,Say to me,“You are not whoYou feared to be,Not Hecate, quite,With howling sound,Torch held…
Letters
Two delightful essays in the March issue, by Nikolas Prassas (“Large Language Poetry,” March 2025) and Gary…
Spring Twilight After Penance
Let’s say you’ve just comeFrom confession. Late sunPours through the budding treesThat mark the brown creek washing Itself…