Morning Prayer by Paola Bruni
Outside my window, the pale forearms of sea mist climb trees with childlike vigor. Smoke skims from chimneys, There is nothing to depend upon, except each impossible change. A tabby hunts a sparrow, whose beak plunders a rooftop...
Between Heaven & Hell is a Pier
Where the undetermined slouch and dangle feet over the edge, or sit full lotus, bait sharp hooks with earthworms, tie flies with a contentment of feathers—cast lines. Some pretend sublime acceptance, as if anyone is fooled at...
Conjunction by Paola Bruni
Another morning and the dog is laid up— tendon that burst like an overripe tomato, sutures, a jagged scribble on her haunch, bandage near her vulva where a fatty tumor excised since we’re knocking her out anyway. She’s ripped,...
Life, Death, and Worm Charming by Emma Brammer
To walk on soil is to walk on the dead. As February draws to a damp close, I take a wooden stake and a metal rasp from my father’s carpentry collection in the garage and head out into the valley. Our house, perched on the crest...
Trees Have Eyes by Jennifer Gurney
when I walk in the forest and hear the river rushing I feel your presence near in the branches above me for the trees have eyes I see the world anew and feel your presence surround me as I float along the river for all life has...
Morning Prayer by Paola Bruni
Outside my window, the pale forearms of sea mist climb trees with childlike vigor. Smoke skims from chimneys, There is nothing to depend upon, except each impossible change. A tabby hunts a sparrow, whose beak plunders a rooftop...
Between Heaven & Hell is a Pier
Where the undetermined slouch and dangle feet over the edge, or sit full lotus, bait sharp hooks with earthworms, tie flies with a contentment of feathers—cast lines. Some pretend sublime acceptance, as if anyone is fooled at...
Conjunction by Paola Bruni
Another morning and the dog is laid up— tendon that burst like an overripe tomato, sutures, a jagged scribble on her haunch, bandage near her vulva where a fatty tumor excised since we’re knocking her out anyway. She’s ripped,...
Life, Death, and Worm Charming by Emma Brammer
To walk on soil is to walk on the dead. As February draws to a damp close, I take a wooden stake and a metal rasp from my father’s carpentry collection in the garage and head out into the valley. Our house, perched on the crest...
Trees Have Eyes by Jennifer Gurney
when I walk in the forest and hear the river rushing I feel your presence near in the branches above me for the trees have eyes I see the world anew and feel your presence surround me as I float along the river for all life has...
