Before the work calls, before the grind of coffee beans,
before the garbage truck growls along this gravel street,
the wind yawns, stretches awake,
blows away last night's dreams.
I'd like to rouse beside her & say
my morning prayer on the mala beads of her knuckles
touching each, not wanting to wake her
but wanting to touch her gently. Outside:
first rabbit in the yard & my cat at the window sill
licking its lips.
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Winter Feature 2014
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Editor's Note
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Poetry
- Betty Adcock
- Robin Behn
- Lorna Knowles Blake
- Michael Collier
- Brendan Constantine
- Patrick Donnelly
- Robert Fanning
- Marta Ferguson
- Miranda Field
- Rebecca Foust
- Jennifer Grotz
- Gerry LaFemina
- Daniel Lawless
- Diane Lockward
- Cleopatra Mathis
- Esther Morgan
- Martha Rhodes
- Joshua Robbins
- J. Allyn Rosser
- R.T. Smith
- Allen Strous
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Fiction
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Essay
Feature > Poetry
Sundae Social
What surprise when the boyfriend strikes his girl
once, across the right cheek, in the ice cream parlor
& what surprise, too, at our response:
so much silence we could hear vanilla custard
melting. This is the story of how love goes &
the story of how much a person can take.
When I finally found my indignation I was—no surprise—
talking at a closed door. I'd been there before.
Minutes later a young kid ordered a chocolate cone
with sprinkles. Said he loved it. Said it was the best thing ever.
once, across the right cheek, in the ice cream parlor
& what surprise, too, at our response:
so much silence we could hear vanilla custard
melting. This is the story of how love goes &
the story of how much a person can take.
When I finally found my indignation I was—no surprise—
talking at a closed door. I'd been there before.
Minutes later a young kid ordered a chocolate cone
with sprinkles. Said he loved it. Said it was the best thing ever.