The Heat of Autumn By Jane Hirschfield The heat of autumn is different from the heat of summer. One ripens apples, the other turns them to cider. One is a dock you walk out on, the other the spine of a thin swimming horse and the river each day a full measure colder. A man … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p8 →

Paranoia is running, she won’t trust anyone, why would she? All want her dead, she thinks, all want her harmed, she thought. She hides, locking the doors and windows, she won’t let anyone in. Nobody can hurt her when she’s in her home, but, what if they can? What if they found a way in, … Continue reading Paranoia →

The sky of the setting sun, To rip. An odd one, all points and lines, To claw. The loud tap tap tap against the keyboard, constant, never ending, To grow. The quiet hum of boredom, To sigh. Alone and prowling through the towering woods, hunting, To sprint. Neptune, deep ocean blues, reaching for the skies … Continue reading I am →

Crepuscule E. E. Cummings, 1894 - 1962 I will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burn- ing flowers I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness in the sleeping curves of my body Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p7 →

Voyage By Carmen Tafolloa I was the fourth ship.           Behind Niña, Pinta, Santa María,           Lost at sea while watching a seagull,           Following the wind and sunset skies,           While the others set their charts. I was the fourth ship.           Breathing in salt and flying with clouds,           Sailing moonbreezes and starvision … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p6 →

The Difference Thomas Hardy, 1840 - 1928 I Sinking down by the gate I discern the thin moon, And a blackbird tries over old airs in the pine, But the moon is a sorry one, sad the bird’s tune, For this spot is unknown to that Heartmate of mine. II Did my Heartmate but haunt … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p5 →

Sitting in the booth, we just ordered, time to wait. The phone begins to ring, ring, ring... my dad grabs it. “Hello?” pause, “Yes, ok,” pause, “Want to speak to her?” “Yeah, ok, here you go.” He hands the phone to me. When I touch the phone, his expression shifts, when I press it to … Continue reading 12 on 12 on 12 →

Practice Ellen Bryant Voigt To weep unbidden, to wake at night in order to weep, to wait for the whisker on the face of the clock to twitch again, moving the dumb day forward— is this merely practice? Some believe in heaven, some in rest. We’ll float, you said. Afterward we’ll float between two worlds— … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p4 →

October By Don Thompson I used to think the land had something to say to us, back when wildflowers would come right up to your hand as if they were tame. Sooner or later, I thought, the wind would begin to make sense if I listened hard and took notes religiously. That was spring. Now … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p3 →

The Past Is the Present Marianne Moore, 1887 - 1972 Revived bitterness is unnecessary unless One is ignorant. To-morrow will be Yesterday unless you say the Days of the week back- Ward. Last weeks’ circus Overflow frames an old grudge. Thus: When you attempt to Force the doors and come At the cause of the … Continue reading Reactions to Poetry; p2 →