Sheri Yutzy: Plant a Garden Over Me
When I die, plant a garden over me.
Let moss curl round my edges
carrot tops spurt like laughter
let me be food for the earth. Continue reading . . . “Sheri Yutzy: Plant a Garden Over Me”
An empty, leather glove reclining there
holds well the shape, a hollow hand encased
in-girds the grip, which, pulseless, on its pair Continue reading . . . “Daniel Hess: An Empty”
Rebecca Weber: Lady of the Rain
The lady of the rain walks the horizon
Back-lit by evening’s glow
Trailing fragrant dripping skirts
Along the wide lawn of forest and field— Continue reading . . . “Rebecca Weber: Lady of the Rain”
Hermann Miller: I Led My Love to This Cold-Echoed Tomb
I led my love to this cold-echoed tomb
And rolls of doom following soon upon
Each door fast drawn behind rolled and were gone
To mould the wall’s unbroken pool of gloom. Continue reading . . . “Hermann Miller: I Led My Love to This Cold-Echoed Tomb”
Every end is a beginning. When everything seems lost,
Bald cypress finally plucked clean, empty bottle
Tossed in the weeds, muddy water escaping
Under the bridge, the deep hum and stir continue. Continue reading . . . “Jeff Gundy: Cornstalks”
Phoebe Anthus: Song to the Beech
You wove your branches,
Netted in the frosty air,
Over the weary weathered stones,
Whose hard selves boast but weakness Continue reading . . . “Phoebe Anthus: Song to the Beech”
I thought that death was dim and distant
Some mountain difficult to climb
Beyond this flower and thistle meadow
Of full-orbed seasons, toil, and time. Continue reading . . . “Rebecca Weber: Ease of Entry”
I found healing in a quiet burn
That played pellucid over stone,
In a winded leaf that flicked and turned,
Untroubled where its dance be blown, Continue reading . . . “Daniel Lowry: The Ache”
Lynn Michael Martin: The Grave of Robin Hood
Beyond the nunnery,
deep buried in the wood,
beneath the boughs of an oaken tree
is the grave of Robin Hood. Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: The Grave of Robin Hood”
Jeff Gundy: Elegy for a Solid Man
Surely there are enough fallen leaves, slippery in the cold woods,
Acorn caps and sticks among them, mud and stone below,
A few still trembling Continue reading . . . “Jeff Gundy: Elegy for a Solid Man”
Daniel Hess: At Least Four Examples
a day after the rains
an innocent mallard
stood close to the full ditch Continue reading . . . “Daniel Hess: At Least Four Examples”
The seed of my life is aching,
yearning to fall from its height;
and find rest, find soil. Continue reading . . . “Obi Martin: Stead”
Kenneth Godoy: Where Two Things Intersect, a Cross Is
Where two things intersect, a cross is,
like the cross between silence and light,
the cross of noise into words into any meaning.
I am a cross of skin and awareness. Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: Where Two Things Intersect, a Cross Is”
Claudia Lehman: On Trying to Write a Christmas Poem
There’s nothing left to say that’s not been said
a hundred times before by better tongues
or fingers than my own, and maybe yours. Continue reading . . . “Claudia Lehman: On Trying to Write a Christmas Poem”
The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing… to find the place where all beauty came from. – C.S. Lewis
Beauty exceeds knowledge. How, for instance, she could be so
unmistakably herself, here and now, with pleasant rightness, though Continue reading . . . “Daniel Hess: Visitation”
Written after the incessant playback of Cotton-Eye Joe:
Jan M. Eriksson & Orjan Kjell Anders Oberg & Patrick Edenberg
I’ve named you Cotton-Eyed Joe,
You velvet headed woe! Continue reading . . . “Phoebe Anthus: My Cheeky Mole”
Jeremy Troyer: The One Who Weeps in the Night
The one who weeps in the night
Weeps either for himself or someone else. Continue reading . . . “Jeremy Troyer: The One Who Weeps in the Night”
Sheri Yutzy: The End of November
O beautiful desolation
The ice of emptiness
Trees bereft
Creeks heavy with cold Continue reading . . . “Sheri Yutzy: The End of November”
The veil slides off and the marbled irises behold,
The brilliance shafts into depths long dark,
Pain, sharp and cleansing, severs the murky cold,
The crackling blackness ignited by the spark— Continue reading . . . “Conrad Stoltzfus: Behold”
Lynn Michael Martin: Blessed Is He Who Cries Out in the Night
Blessed is he who cries out in the night,
Who sees and is not satisfied with peace,
Who will not sleep amid the world’s caprice,
Who knows that darkness does not disprove light. Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: Blessed Is He Who Cries Out in the Night”
