A Memory
by Joanna McClure Flies buzz Dry dust Hot bright sun The taste of canned milk The smell of pines Mothers move around a wood stove.
Metaphor
by Joanna McClure The tsunami Seen from a hillside video camera Advances slowly, serenely Carrying trucks, houses, trees, trash. While in frame
Soneto Cubano
by Joe Richey Cuba, I tried to explain, is not just a place where six square walls reside. Eleven million people raised on revolution live there