The New Song, by W.S. Merwin (1927-) For some time I thought there was time and that there would always be time for what I had a mind to do and what I could imagine going back to and finding it as I had found it the first time but by this time I do […]
Outside of Richmond, Virginia, Sunday, by Deborah Slicer (1953-) It’s the kind of mid-January afternoon— the sky as calm as an empty bed, fields indulgent, black Angus finally sitting down to chew— that makes a girl ride her bike up and down the same muddy track of road between the gray barn and the […]
Bedtime Reading for the Unborn Child, by Khaled Mattawa (1964-) Long after the sun falls into the sea and twilight slips off the horizon like a velvet sheet and the air gets soaked in blackness; long after clouds hover above like boulders and stars crawl up and stud the sky; long after bodies tangle, dance, […]
Immortal Sails, by Alfred Noyes (1880-1958) Now, in a breath, we’ll burst those gates of gold, And ransack heaven before our moment fails. Now, in a breath, before we, too, grow old, We’ll mount and sing and spread immortal sails. It is not time that makes eternity. Love and an hour may quite out-span […]
When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead, by Charles Sorley (1895-1915) When you see millions of the mouthless dead Across your dreams in pale battalions go, Say not soft things as other men have said, That you’ll remember. For you need not so. Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know It […]
Sternly Departing, by Mark Halliday (1949-) Nobody seemed to notice me for three days in San Diego as if I were less significant than a spindly palm tree yet when my plane took off from the airport at that moment all over San Diego people paused and glanced into some crystal of absence; the plane’s […]
Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas, by Clement Clarke Moore (1779-1863) or Henry Livingston Jr. (1748-1828) ’Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children […]
Brief reflection on killing the Christmas carp, by Miroslav Holub (1923-1998) You take a kitchen-mallet and a knife and hit the right spot, so it doesn’t jerk, for jerking means only complications and reduces profit. And the watchers already narrow their eyes, already admire the dexterity, already reach for their purses. And paper is […]
Sleeping Parents, Wakeful Children, by Phillip Dacey (1939-) When our parents were sleeping We brought them gifts It was a whispering time The great bodies lain down Upon the long bed The deep sighs adrift Through the upper rooms It was a whispering time When the gods slept And we made gifts for them With […]
The Unquarried Blue of Those Depths Is All But Blinding, by Ashley Anna McHugh(1985-) There are some things we just don’t talk about— Not even in the morning, when we’re waking, When your calloused fingers tentatively walk The slope of my waist: How love’s a rust-worn boat, Abandoned at the dock—and who could […]