Brass hayfield in sun: cattle crop golden straw, graze on sheaves of copper.
By Jennifer A. G.7 months ago in Poets
Bones are coming. Crows wait on posts, coyotes in field: they smell nôhkom's stew. - - - - - - - *Note: The word coyotes in the second stanza should be read kai-oats (not kai-oh-tees).
Ventilator tube Between slack lips. Blips on a Screen: I am alive.
Coyote yip-sings Up to crow in his pine tree: Trickster and shifter.
Americano: Preheat. Measure, grind, fill, tamp (Don't let shot run blonde).
Latex gloves on skull: "We will cut here. No pain." And fear? You forgot fear.
Green Jell-O, white lights, Papa in a paper gown. I wait in the hall.
rainbow rays resist sun sashays toward shade — splash! puddles pool for play
By Greer Monroe7 months ago in Poets
Mounds of shoveled snow Standing in the spring heat wave A sight to behold
By James Bao7 months ago in Poets
The porch light flickers. A moth circles once, twice more, then rests on the glass.
By shallon gregerson7 months ago in Poets
Sand shifts underfoot- A small shell turns in the wash, water pulls it back.
The match strikes once—flare. Sulfur drifts in the still air. Flame steadies on wick.
