By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Mehrnoosh Torbatnejad The calico returns to the living room after scamper in backyard jungle, bringing with him the rustle that animals do while loitering in their owner’s home I do not turn to the familiar stir of paws inching against carpet when he enters, but I hear the swish…