Reunion on the St. Joe by Chelsey J. Waters
She glances downstream toward a big evergreen—a white pine, maybe?
A Typical Week of Rural Disquiet by Chila Woychik
Oh, hello. You must be new here. First off, Iowa is weather and corn.
An Interview with Karen Garthe
I remember coming out of the anesthesia, drifting back from wherever it is you go, back to consciousness. I looked at my mother and said “Now, will you tell me why we’re here?”
Two Poems by Carol V. Davis
The scientist invited me to her work, greeted me / on the icy sidewalk to usher me past guards stomping
Two Poems by Chris Holdaway
Longing for what it already had; yea, the rain / Should have replaced the air one-for-one,
Candles in the Subway, by Bria McClain
They do not know day from night, under the screaming lights, but when the men leave and the bulbs go out, they dream.
L’aura, by Ian A. Bonaparte
I’m always whisked to midnight / by ugly wind.
Brief, by Ella Ramsay
I think, “It must be she, the tree, standing attentive ...
Three Poems by Thomas Cook
I suppose I have been this man, regardless of what can be said of me
The New Silent Spring, by Valerie Luzadis
The tree buds are swelling, and spring emerges