All winter the flag flapped against the tree trunk
struggled to shrug off the snow.
The chimney conspired, threw embers
on the rug, startled the dog who waddled on arthritic legs,
barked out a steady rebuke of flame.
We grew accustomed to these insignificant flares,
began to respond more slowly, to finish stirring the soup,
pouring the tea, before stomping out the sparks.
We watched through ice-glazed windows
as fresh snow fell into the frozen footprints
that marked the path from door to driveway.
Even the snowman standing guard in the front yard,
Stared through button-blind eyes as new flakes bore down,
collapsed the wings of aging angels.
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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