Poetry Posts

An Old Man and a Basketball

by Chris Boucher Following the hollow sound of a bounding ball Into an empty early morning gym, an old man starts to shoot solo. The long dormant floor creaks and moans And the rim rattles in the echoey cold— Echoes like his old skills. He lives with that Like he…

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World

by Lisa Harris Perhaps you see a globe: You think, a world is round; a world spins. Continents are misshapen feet, and all around them lies blue water, the color of a Scandinavian’s eyes. Perhaps you see a million faces, a blur of non-photogenic humanity, a smear of intention, like…

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The Decorating Preferences of Starlings and Housewives

by Holly Day The voices of frogs are coming in through the air conditioner vents so loud in the rain it sounds like they’re in here with us perhaps hidden under the couch, or nestled a comforter clustered in a group of bright skin and gold eyes watching us from…

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Will They Remember

by Susanna Hargreaves Do my heartfelt words matter and will my children even remember the sound of my voice Will they think of me when they hear the faint keys of a piano or when they smell blueberry muffins baking and when they see the pile of books next to…

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Patches

by Chris Boucher My pet beagle is expanding my world. One day she sniffs out rabbit pellets behind the house. Another day it’s a freshly-dug hole under the shed – my neighbor says a hedgehog did it. On yet another, she returns proudly with a deer antler in her mouth….

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The Last Suitcase

by Holly Day I watched him float away like a single tuft of dandelion fluff out of my arms and out of the house and into his own life and then the door closed and I was alone. There was not one moment in the past twenty years that I…

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Long-Term Mates Migrate Great Distances

by Rosemary Dunn Moeller Along Nantucket Sound at Dennisport where Swan River runs out into the sea, I watch buffleheads, far out from shore, who don’t know we’re cold today, the middle of winter, wind chill factor too low to watch for long. Sunshine’s brightest this afternoon when I step…

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Europa

by Craig Fishbane Before Enrique was deported last month—if he did, in fact, get deported—I liked to joke that he was my one student who did his best work when he was not on Earth. I remember how during his last day in school, he leaned across his desk, gawking…

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The End of Baseball Season

by John P. Kristofco …when we add up all the numbers, shut the lights, shutter the concession stands, set behind like years, people who have come and gone, seasons we’ve forgotten though once they stirred our hearts, quiet now like baselines, bleachers, segments of our souls subtracted, risen up like…

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Anger

by David Armand Every weekend my father sat on the sofa all day watching movies like Lethal Weapon, Platoon, Lonesome Dove, Tombstone, and all five Rockys back-to-back.                His favorite one was The Abyss with Ed Harris and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio and sometimes he’d watch it— rewind the tape he’d rented…

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