He wasn't good at telling stories. He said
After we lost the outfit to mean they died.
He and the other survivor from their platoon
Wandered the battlefield till they lay down
To sleep. When he woke up, the other was gone.
So he walked the Battle of the Bulge alone
Until he found another group that took
Him in, the SCR still strapped to his back:
The handset harnessed behind him, out of sight,
The antenna at his ear. We slept, we ate.
I had another unit, somewhere to be.
They had a radioman, and that was me.
-
Spring Feature 2015
-
Feature
- Poets in Person Jane Hirshfield from San Francisco, CA
-
Poetry
- Sandra Alcosser
- David Baker
- Chana Bloch
- David Bottoms
- Cyrus Cassells
- Carl Dennis
- Stephen Dunn
- Laura Fargas
- Sandra M. Gilbert
- Jane Hirshfield
- Ted Kooser
- Dorianne Laux
- Thomas Lux
- Mary Mackey
- Wesley McNair
- Dunya Mikhail
- Joseph Millar
- Jim Moore
- D. Nurkse
- Naomi Shihab Nye
- Robert Pinsky
- Gerald Stern
- Jean Valentine
- Rosanna Warren
- Matthew Zapruder
-
BOOK REVIEW
- David Rigsbee reviews The Beauty
by Jane Hirshfield
- David Rigsbee reviews The Beauty