Issue 2


The love of my life is gone.

I am young again

Straddling a split-rail fence, rapt.


That song plays as we drive

to the madrigal.


Easter eggs are secreted in burial nooks.

Years after, the shells are found.

I am trying to win you back,

reading script from a silent movie.


You tell where you’ve lived

in your straw hat and skirt.


Then it is later, the catkins long,

the mustard sere and withered.

You are an image

that words want to hold,

a desire that withdraws to taunt.


You are what no one is.

How I could fall again for you

a vapor    a sunrise

everything    nothing


the bluff that awakens

dread and hope?