To My Son, Stillborn, January 16
Cheryl Byler Keeler January 23, 2026 No Comments
Your death seared my cells,
fired them with you;
in one way, you left
me as your body slipped
from mine, 41 years ago,
but in another way, you
entered me;
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- Poems
Poems
Catching Cold
Jeffrey Parks January 2, 2026 2 Comments
It’s sleeting outside but
I slant through the slashing
Slivers of ice unscathed
An old woman is waiting inside
Saying you’ll catch the death of you
As she hands me a heavy blanket
Another Husband in the Waiting Room
Laurence Musgrove December 12, 2025 12 Comments
From the sixth floor of the surgery tower
two blocks from a frozen Lake Michigan,
I can see a small lighthouse but no boats.
The overcast lake is speckled blue and white
near shore, but far out on the horizon, it’s dark
like a new bruise
Common Cause
Kendra Fleagle Gorlitsky November 21, 2025 6 Comments
Sitting before me
I measure his scars and record the beatings
He is broken
Not just his teeth and back, his will is shattered
I ask his plans should he be granted asylum
He has none
Time & Again
M. Cynthia Cheung October 31, 2025 2 Comments
COVID wards 2020-2021
For the sake of the present / let’s just admit that thigh-deep mud & poison gas & running into machine gun fire / still belong to us all the glass-eyed / survivors who said sundown was almost worse than morning slaughters
Lessons From the Night Sky
Jacqueline Redmer October 10, 2025 4 Comments
It has recently come to your attention that asteroid 2022 AP7 is headed towards the earth. ◙ Despite your attempts at distraction, your mind repeatedly imagines the collision. ◙ Experts call 2022 AP7 a planet killer–then say not to worry as it could be many generations before this is a
Infinite Excuses
Wynne Morrison September 19, 2025 10 Comments
A long day makes me want to get home, and I’ll have
to explain, again, why I’m late to pick up the kids. The merge
onto the Expressway slows. At least the drivers stay patient,
taking turns. We keep stuttering forward until I see the cause
Three Needles
Jane Desmond August 29, 2025 4 Comments
First the catheter, slimmest filament,
slid in by expert hands
The next needle delivers
a pillowy somnolence
your russet-furred rabbit face falling
gently into my cradling palm
Then the final dose,
doctor calculated for your now boney, bunny frame
The Healer
Lori-Anne Noyahr August 8, 2025 7 Comments
Just beyond the parking lot,
my husband chases
our daughter through
the trails of the Rouge Valley,
as they await a break between
my cases—to visit the “hopstipal”
where she was born, where
I still work on weekends.
Please Stand Clear
Sophie Collins July 18, 2025 4 Comments
I catch the train home after a night shift
my tired eyes take in the harbor view
a child chirps announcements in my ear
sweet mimicry doors closing please stand clear
last night a woman died or tried at least
her heart a panicked quivering
On Attempting Containment
Debbie Hall June 27, 2025 6 Comments
R said when he heard the words
aggressive prostate cancer,
he heard location, containment, intruder
confined within hard boundaries,
not parsing each loaded syllable
as its own explosive detail
capable of spreading.
A Dance of Love
Elena Schwolsky June 6, 2025 13 Comments
Like a rose
The nurse says
Of this new, unexpected opening into my body,
Fastening the pouch with expert hands
Deep red
Inside out
My hands tremble as I empty my
lunch of meatloaf and mashed potatoes
Rendered brown murky liquid
Into