by Kevin T. McEneaney Building a house for purple martin, dye from a spiny sea snail gland, blackberry, or mulberry, horse tails dipped in purple notes the Iliad, grape hyacinth,…
Nonet in Blue The scent of forget-me-not in air like secret memories of poignant pleasure once filched from the bank of a stream where water tumbled over boulders sending foam…
Sometimes I think my heart resembles a red tulip open to sun, dreaming dark red tulip dreams while hosting poetic lines on bright sunny days, closing at night to ponder…
Every April my rational winter brain, is sent packing by spring light. My body seems to wish to sift the world solo. Skin gathers courage, gut relaxes, sinews tighten and…
I let the front yard go, thinking moss would take it, imagined a lush, green, spongy mattress, like in the Adirondacks, where my brother and I found wizard beds in…
On Life’s veranda We stood there, timid and unsure. What would the next day bring? On the canal, a swan, Her cob and cygnets foraged With an aimless plan. The…
I. Falling Looking out across the horizon, I imagine the American Empire itself enfolded in that stately snarl of purple clouds sailing toward me about to crash into sheer rockface.…
Just before the world got sick, before the black Johns Hopkins maps and Covid on the weather app, in a crowded Chinese restaurant a woman leaned sharply as if tugged …