He studies me for a second before facing the road again, his jaw set. My breath is caught in my throat. I clear it, arranging my thoughts. It was just an outburst, a loss of patience: I am safe.
Month: March 2022
Fiachaire — Shannen Malone
“We can’t take it all,” her brother had said, tossing memories in a bin bag like kittens for drowning.
ONE POEM – Hideko Sueoka
Bright rays reflect, shape, shake her portrait on the water skin
and it’s broken, burnt, soon gone.
ONE POEM – Bernadette Gallagher
Get some hens
dig up the garden
sow and plant.
ONE POEM — Judith Amanthis
From the yew-dark wool you pulled
over my eyeball,
knit one, maul one,
you made a beam
Porridge 