i sold your car today
by Pamela Twining as i slough off another piece of you i still sometimes wear your skin see through your eyes walk journeys my legs have never
Spring Fog from a Rear Window on Water Street
by James Reidel The inspiration here is too window shopped, But the cat arches against the glass, Getting comfortable after the long winter,
Red LifeSavers
by James Reidel The cherry ones, So painfully close to the weakest of medicines — Luden’s, Smith Bros., Hall’s, Hardly a saccharide shy of penny
“ . . . leaves: They will cure my hunger”
by James Reidel “ . . . leaves: They will cure my hunger” Ch’en Tzu –lung The grass is dusted by frost and your bare feet grow
Draught
by Julie Rogers The sun, a coin flipping deep in a pocket of heat that won’t give. Newscast: governor’s gruff voice rations water, Sierra
Hen House
by Julie Rogers Hen House for Sangye The mother is never done. Her hands work her heart, play dough shapes. The mold cuts her to size,