coming to the end of spring / my grandmother kicks off her shoes / steps out of her faltering body. Votes: 5
Who says there's just one safe way to walk, one road properly lit, and the rest - all slippery water, unmarked? Votes: 1
If our dreams could edit the news (and sometimes our nightmares) these poems are how they'd wake us up to the urgency of our times. Votes: 0