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The Green Room

by K. Louise Vincent

What is a dream? A child
walks into the garden
singing about what she sees.
Red, red tulips, she sings, hungry,
hungry birds.




by Sue Wheeler

This tea of needle, tincture
of twig, is a water-lens
reading the world.
Today’s news:
us three, a branch, the sky.


In the Mornings I Find a Crane's Feathers
in My Damp Braids

by Svetlana Ischenko

I reach love with the tip of my tongue
the way a wild creature reaches
to rainwater between split stones.
Love is on the tip of my tongue.
Love is on the tip ...


Mustard Seeds

by April Bulmer


My hand trembles when I fill my cup. But the sweetness of my voice when I raise it up. The taste of lemon tea. But death stutters its syllables. And my heart trips its last step. I sing the songs of clumsy blood and family.






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