Category: Winter 2009
Sit Still
by Michael Macklin Let the world do her work, sky juggling clouds, waves moving away and returning. Let flowers on the shore become doors or
Mallow
by Michael Macklin They must talk, the flowers and the fishes. One overhanging the other, pale pink at the water’s edge. One world bleeds into
Float
by Michael Macklin We swim out to the smaller world where weathered wood holds its place tugging at its mucky tether. Spread our dripping bodies
Cafe L’Absinthe
by Philip A. Waterhouse The automatic voice intoning — You are now flying over the North Pole — you willing to be recrossing the polar bear
Primary Encounters
by Philip A. Waterhouse West of the Mississippi, we were called gandy dancers, slang term for railroad “section hands” the north east, the same
Still Life With Wind
by William Heyen The trainer found him hanging in the locker room early morning before the game. Statics was naked except for jock and socks,
Special Olympics, Brockport, 1979
by William Heyen At the track, I served as hugger. My job — to congratulate the runners, finishers or not, winners or winners, even those who
Trailing Clouds of Glory, 1994
by William Heyen The Hutu leader of a small Rwandan village suffered from his government’s rebuke: he’d been lax in “bush-clearing” — in cutting
Force
by William Heyen Iwo Jima, 1945 — a small boat intercepted a transport evacuating a wounded Marine, asked for the casualty, was granted
Manhole
by Emily Carmen Manholes allow access to underground structures. I fell into one today and hit my head on cement. Now, my DNA twists about