by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
By James Rushmore The waxing moon balances on the pine. Lonely brook meanders through the scrub brush, The mayflies hatch without mouths; No need to Eat; But just to make love without kissing. The June night befalls the fallen fish mine, The honey bees sleep, the petals close; lush. A…