Literature

Here the seashore stores The footprints of strangers And stories about the oceans Like nobody knows until now where the first wave came from And open secrets of ancestors Like the tryst of the sea and the sky But only eyes from far away can see

Dusk The sun bleeds as it dies. Magentas, crimsons, lilacs spread across the sky. “A variant of the riddle goes: A pair of yarn balls / that can reach the heavens.” I skewed the metaphor. You say it doesn’t matter. You like the slant...

Prelude I’m scared of this masterpiece,                           how I painted it so perfectly with every bit of green and blue, sewed                           to a threshold of fragmented doors— a tapestry of thoughts, where everything is new.                           I was drawn to a morning so sullen.                           From the wooden chair in...

Our lady of one day at a time Our lady of veils allowed to droop Our lady of the thrice-revised corner Madonna of postponement Madonna of a thumb in the eye Our lady done with these pulling at my ears Our lady but a tear in the equipment Virgin of...

“Come in,” he said in response to the five steady raps on his door. There was a soft squeak as the door opened to let in a waft of the shimmery perfume the woman was wearing. Lawrence Gaston, Director of the St. Francis...

He did not know how long he was standing in front of the airport’s large, expansive glass wall, which offered a misty, drippy view of the departing plane. Not long, he supposed, because his 82-year-old knees would have buckled from standing very long,...