Become a member Receive our newsletter
Member Login
Remember Me
Follow Us
first frost -- the kindling takes with a hiss
After twighlight,
At her desk,
She ponders the implications of signing in crayon..
The lights in the street are gold or white or blue.
The primitive grass says nothing of what’s to come. ...
The wind rhymes with the sound of their pants
brushing against their legs. The music must shift
to a higher register, whenever the diesel trains roar. ...
Outside the Library, the pigeons do to Redmond Barry what Ned Kelly never could.
Next »
« Previous
Mikaylia’s painting was inspired by her family