Make the mountain tall
and fly the gaudy colors that glorify death.
We will come with our stuff,
stopping at every overlook
to see how far we've come, to see
the tiny billboards and steeples.
Tuna sandwiches at the top, under stunted oak
you can see three states if you stand here.
We come with open mouths that slowly close
as Autumn's elders begin to speak:
the lone cricket, the lake,
the hooded coals of the fire.
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Issue 53
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Editor's Note
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Poetry
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Fiction
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Book Review
- David Rigsbee reviews Midnight Lantern: New And Selected Poems
by Tess Gallagher
- David Rigsbee reviews Midnight Lantern: New And Selected Poems