Angel By fate’s account, beauty a witness lost Each year succumbs to its frightened host And gathers our allegiance to depart From signs of aerie
Once… By Hugh Findlay
Once… There once was a woman from Newcastle Whose life was surely a hassle She had 12 kids Who all had the ‘vid And her
Vanity By Jordanna Miller
Vanity I felt the warm air clog my lungs as bedsheets sliced my skin. The shadows stared, distorted limbs trapped in walls of white bone.
Ghost Crab By Denise Gilchrist
Ghost Crab Ghost crab basks seaside Dying in the morning sun Front claws raise skyward I bow to the hard, wet sand As the horizon
Two Poems By Emalisa Rose
An occasional robin The squirrels remain. Three or four catbirds a surplus of blue jays the mourning doves and an occasional robin. The branch of
When You Are Old By Bob McAfee
When You Are Old you spend hours on a bench in early morning Paris cold beneath the verdigrised statue of Charlemagne outside of Notre Dame,
Grand Little Things 