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My Courbet, by Jonathan Galassi
My Courbet
Jonathan Galassi
One of a Series
My daughter sees the sky from another angle, slate-blue reflected in a lake called living.
Joni Wallace
CALLING BACK | CHARITY
My daughter sings in snow falling through the scent of red oak or ash, some of the flakes large enough to contain passages from Emily Dickinson’s letters.
Steven Cramer
Reading Heidegger Brings a Wild Joy
My discovery of your essential thingness
Rebecca Foust
Magical Thinking
My dog does not question
Lisa Russ Spaar
ALL THE BOYS
my face is old now
Denise Duhamel
Wooden Boards
My father carefully rolls his pant leg up, places his leg between two wide boards. He tells my mother to jump hard on
Dzvinia Orlowsky
The Afterlife of Breath
My father dead on the gurney
Stewart Moss
My Father Was a Honey Bee
My father was a honey bee He buzzed and buzzed
Jan Freeman
Using these questions, would you please write a brief description of yourself?
My favorite creature is the tree porcupine.
Jesse Lee Kercheval
Three Poems
My fingers grow white with winter, blood
Traci Brimhall
Football & the English Language
My first year as high school coach, five points
Ron Smith
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