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FAIRY TALE 4 BY DAVID RADAVICH
What would it be like to be kissed awake after a long sleep— sleep of turmoil, sleep of care— and be transformed? What was the dream about? The world interrupted? And what is this life promising romance? Will this same body...
Read MoreON A COLD NIGHT BY DAVID RADAVICH
They are so small, these poems. So inhabited by darkness even the night shines through its many stars. No wonder love seems so far away. No wonder nature deems to rustle, already gone. Somewhere God is on an escapade, saving a...
Read MoreNO REASON BY DAVID RADAVICH
After Georgi Gospodinov Why does death love us so much? It sings like an angel inviting and golden, but as Rilke declared, always terrifying. Birds, trees, rocks carry on without death, are not ever lured beyond being. Air does...
Read MoreAWAKENING BY DAVID RADAVICH
A new day. Not a new life. Not the same thing. Our wild apple tree beside the road is still here opening again this year a bit taller perhaps, hanging over the asphalt, one of the earliest of fruit trees to blossom, starting a...
Read MoreACEDIA BY AMELIA DIAZ ETTINGER
(Triversen Poem) I often look at birds, any bird, land on telephone wires and feel the bounce in my skin. Ageing into wire instead of feather and beak, while I long for hollow bones instead of time passing by. I want to jump...
Read MoreYELLOW MOTHS BY AMELIA DIAZ ETTINGER
This child asks, “Why do you write poems?” I answer in quiet phrases that move like a brush in watercolor. “You see, words are seeds planted in the moonlight and in the heat of day. Dormant below the surface of a rock like...
Read MoreMY CHILD THE POET BY AMELIA DIAZ ETTINGER
Every child is a poet and for that I rejoice. Imagine the silence if no one listened to the bridges of children’s words that swish and swoosh, making confetti out of leaves, the Titanic from a stick in a gutter, bellows full of...
Read MoreAMBER SEASON BY AMELIA DIAZ ETTINGER
the yellow sights of autumn always made me feel womanly not this year, this year they call my name and seem to say— you lost your luster that overwhelming sense of fullness, I had when the amber hues of my hair played naturally...
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