Matter
by Elizabeth Tibbetts If I didn’t walk these grass paths, fit my fingers to the stones to trace names and dates, births and deaths, if I didn’t
The Bear
by Elizabeth Tibbetts It’s a hot May day at the graveyard: enough breeze to keep black flies away, leaves sunning their green naked selves, an
Everything Looks Perfect
by Elizabeth Tibbetts Our guide holds a telescope thick as a man’s arm as she scans the bay for signs of a finback’s spout or the black back of a
Every Which Way
by Susan Sherman Imagine a globe spinning through space You are standing in Canada The stars are singularly bright You watch them in
The Tears of Things
by Susan Sherman Will they cry for us when we have gone the objects that adorn our lives When we have left will they miss our touch our need
Emptying the Ashes
by Judy Kaber Each morning they accumulate in the belly of my stove, grey, giving off little smoke or heat, hiding the small, hot coals that I