This book concerns the story of the land of the pygmies.
You should crouch down to read it.
The only boat making landfall is a discarded shoe.
The mirror in a shard of glass is the biggest lake around.
A cat wrote mottled, grape seed-sized notes with its whiskers,
a dove left droppings in acknowledgment.
Sunflowers opened in my book,
a tiny land whose garden and wall
I water with a sprinkler.
-
Summer Feature 2013
-
Editor's Note
-
Poetry
-
Essay