Fragile leaves, promising
a spring reng a
Marisa Brown Jane Brunette Drew Carpenter Janet Ector Jeff Embleton Alexander Friend Deborah Henning Bruce Machado Mary Ann Malkos Katie McCleary Nicole Henares Abigail Wick Randall Babtkis Jaime Robles
Fragile leaves, reborn, eclipse thorns on wet brambles, promising berries.
Upon these verdant pages, the sun begins a chapter.
Coastal lilies, white trumpets with blaring, yellow tongues, thus cry: rejoice
Fragile hearts beat out Songs for lost time
The fierce intent of budding limbs calls out to autumn moon
The sun melts colors on fallen leaves buried in the streets
Towering concrete swathes light into purple grains and decayed skylines.
A forgotten scent drifts from the threadworn blue pillow case—
Depth of the midnight, Woken by her hand’s caress Down her backside, ooo
Was it the curve of her spine Or the curve of the half moon?
These two women wo— ken share a subway token Thumbprint still on breast
Ride through the hollow tunnels to emerge with a shared breath
The sky drips warm ink, humid air licks collarbones. A summer moon shines
A speckled palette of dreams For cicada illusions.
The tap of a vision buried in the mind as eyes race with waking
The smell of old books, a game, a doll with no head—unearthed.
Spring blossoms erupt. Headless doll stops her crying. Tears detached from heart.
heads break black and fertile earth. bloom of spring barbies
Falling, falling, snowy flakes Kissing the ground beneath feet Recycling grace back next season
urban detritus launches foaming garbage: shore and sea
home: dereliction. unclean precipitation borne on angel wings.
Beneath a halo: two wings of wax too close to the hearth
Dissipate like late season flakes and icicles puddles pooling by the flames
of loneliness and night snow aching to break free in spring.
thoughts drift—a lattice of inky words curving across the paper’s small field.
I love you. I love You so much words are threadbare.
Devoid of succor, I yearn to speak without them, With impassioned eyes.
with mouth sewn shut language blocks a torn tongue, a wide iris
Under wine—dark moon, two women don’t speak what’s known: this harvest, rotted.
Calico cats in pumpkins. Bare branches hang persimmons.
Poor Autumn sun’s phase It made me feel naked, drunk Hung and fantastic
pungent memories of loss my heart scents the languid air
jaded branches open wide seething teeth invite inside
silk threads hang from reddened lips unhinged, truth stripped and cursive.
Sunday strollers pass by me; their kerchiefs to their nose—still I grin.
and the light crown’s song vibrates half—rhymes and longing through the soft evening
Dare I come again to her Blossomed, floral flowing glass
The flame tongued orchid leaps out stray kisses in blooms. Spring: the wind’s bounty.
Exalt photosynthetic eclipse of thorns. Sun’s thumbprint.