Flute Across black canyon's rim to the edge of echo, your life's numen touches the silver surface of sound's creation,…
Critical Defense --after Jane Hirshfield I shot the Berretta I loaded frangible round into the Berretta I shot the Berretta…
Mother, Mirror This hand-me-down Gothic reflection. This Holy Mother Scrolling her entitlements-- Even after death. Her embossments Perpetually etched in…
Mexico at Twelve Like a young prince, I rode high and untethered Into the desert My saddle the engine lid…
Response to theme - I am responding to the theme, and to Peter Sears’ poem, by submitting these images (including…
Peter Sears, a graduate of Yale and the Iowa Writers Workshop, has taught at Reed College in Portland, Oregon, and…
During the war, I wanted to be a fighter pilot, but I would probably have crashed and be captured and…
Sister Arnoldine lent me her book for a science project said keep it as long as you like --the mechanics…