INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Shutta Crum
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EARLY VIEW This morning for one brief moment between sleep and restlessness I followed the miniaturized white trails pale worms smear over the sweet cherry leaves they ceaselessly devour A LOVE AWAY Torches you hurl down a dry well you've dug for yourself hit bottom reveal where your never-before-seen heart is just as sharp as the edge around a popped paper bag's jagged hole WANDERER This winter I tend a small fire to keep warm. Most nights, the wind's my only companion. All alone with it I've learned many old songs. Scented by coyotes, squabbling geese flutter close to me. When filled with self-pity, I'm reminded how difficult it is being alone. Snow-stuck dry maple leaves strain at their brittle stems in high wind. EARLY SPRING DRIVE From afar, the V of a snow-crushed hay barn. April rains flooding corn stubble into temporary paddies. Ice clinging to rock staining it the sienna color of muddied rust. Thawed water dripping against shallow walls in limestone caves. Each drop's splash a moth's black pair of wings. Paul B. Roth, Fayetteville, New York
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