Poet’s Corner: Into January
Into January
By Amarylis Douglas
It comes to almost a monochrome
the island, off-season.
We walk back home from the Chop
into the snow’s beginnings.
Dry leaves spin mischief
inside the log-bordered yard.
The chickadees, discreet at the feeder
until audacious bluejay comes.
Salty...
Poet’s Corner: Sweet Nothings
Sweet Nothings
By Valerie Sonnenthal
a hazy night sky
mutes blinking red lights
etched into the horizon
silent lambs sleep
in a heap of sheep
under a beetlebung tree
dogs lie in wait
curled across limbs
breathe as one
sand in every pocket
stuck in creases
soles...
Poet’s Corner: December Traditions
December Traditions
By Amarylis Douglas
My mother could hear Christmas songs
on distant piano keys
I remember my own little girl
learning to walk again after she broke her ankle
crutch under one arm, violin under the other
into her first...
Poet’s Corner: Pond song
Pond song
By Linda Comstock
vineyard sweet momma girl
broad starlight, myriad pearl
late night’s gift looks me in face
dark flat pond my arms embrace.
smooth silk skin cohesion break
diving in Menemsha lake
plunging depths with arms swayed back
breathing bubbles...
Poet’s Corner: Medici Wanted
Medici Wanted
By Gregory Mone
Island writer seeking patron to provide inspiring, light-filled
studio on hill, free of charge. Ocean views through rustling
pin oaks preferred but not essential. Author is generally sunny
but willing to appear despondent from...
Poet’s Corner: Mothers
Mothers
By Cecily Bryant
We hear you mothers,
with your babies clutching your skirts
We hear you mothers,
when you exhaustively beg for food
We hear you mothers,
when you weep silently into the violent nights
The world you once knew and...
Poet’s Corner: What it’s like to be an American
What it’s like to be an American
By Valerie Sonnethal
yesterday a photographer asked, “what’s it like
for you, to be an American?” complicated
no longer sure guilty lucky … for now
so many distracting directions
one...
Poet’s Corner: Gone
Gone
By Cecily Bryant
We scrape their lives from tents and tarps
as if they were the very refuse themselves
Gone are the scraps of love once present in photographs
and items of past comforts
Now those criminalized for being...
Poet’s Corner: The Grave
The Grave
By John F. Kriscenski
The grave.
A silent place the grave.
Canals and gutters washed bodies decay; the living stay away.
The worms.
The germs.
Once burdened horses tread, now long and buried also dead.
The spirit moves but never...
Poet’s Corner: New Eyes
New Eyes
By Cecily Bryant
I gaze into her empyrean eyes
and wonder if she still remembers life before her birth
The mystery we all hold with wonder
answers pieced together with religious and philosophical debate
But she knows
Her eyes...
Poet’s Corner: Sometimes
Sometimes
By Bradford Rowe
I was born with wings
Folded up inside my veil
Premature, jaundiced
Given someone else's blood
Like a chick kicked out of the nest
Too soon but just right
I could fly instinctually
The only way to find my...
Poet’s Corner: She Remains Silent No Longer
She Remains Silent No Longer
By Louise LoCascio Matarazzo
She Remains Silent No Longer
Being raised to please others
It was difficult for her to ask
for what she wanted.
Being reprimanded for not doing things Right.
She silently walked around...
Poet’s Corner: Morning Glory Corn
Morning Glory Corn
By Michael West
If you told me
I could have only one ear
It would have to be
Morning Glory corn
I’d shuck it clean
Smear butter
Wrap in foil
Heat at 425
And eat —
Are you a typewriter
Or a rotary...
Poet’s Corner: Not More/More
Not More/More
By Jeffrey Agnoli
Not more profits
not more outrage
not more products
not more cages
not more choices
not more thoughtlessness
not more noises
not more selfishness
not more indulgence
not more division
not more ignorance
not more exclusion
not more deals
not more woes ...
Only
more meadows
more...
Poet’s Corner: after the downpour
after the downpour
By Valerie Sonnenthal
frogs hop across the road
springing forward as my husband swerves
front wheels spin a mid-August splash
these are the first frogs of summer
torrential hours passed
sheets of rain obliterate
landscape a blur of grey
some...
Poet’s Corner: There’s a war going on
There’s a war going on
By Nancy Slonim Aronie
There’s a war going on (actually two)
and we’re debating whether Gray Barn Boule
or Orange Peel hot cross buns are better for French toast
There’s a war going on...
Poet’s Corner: so this happened
so this happened
By Michael Oliveira
first light rain of acorns
knocked on the forest floor
summoned summer forward
towards autumn's yet unopened door
cold umber light spread
as the sea upon the shore
i took no comfort there
so turned to quickly...
Poet’s Corner: Autumn
Autumn
By Cecily Bryant
The singing of crickets in unison
herald the coming of the waning light,
Daddy long-legs do their push-ups on my
door frame, and the Joe-Pye weed stand like
tawny sentinels daring the fall to come
I am...
Poet’s Corner: Sometimes
Sometimes
By Dave Plath
I think, I think and I think and
sometimes I can't think at all,
and sometimes I think that the thoughts that I think
aren’t worthy of thinking at all
and sometimes I wonder, I ponder,...
Poet’s Corner: At the Water’s Edge
At the Water's Edge
By Eloise Jones
You stand by the water’s edge
Close enough to feel the slap of salty water against your knees
Smell the brine in the air
Hear the steady tempo of the waves
And you...