As he closed the door
one night he said,
If you don't find me in bed in the morning,
Look in the south field.
I'll be in my white suit.
And the red?
In the south field, by the cherry orchard
protected from the wind,
where the dogs run with their tails curled high,
racing the fall.
And the gun?
In the south field, at the edge of the hill
where the sun strikes first
in winter.
And our child?
-
Issue 65
-
Editor's Note
-
POETRY
- Thomas Jay Balkany
- Bruce Bond
- Kristene Brown
- Jeff Burt
- Regina Colonia-Willner
- David Cooke
- William J. Cordeiro
- Cheney Crow
- Sharon Dolin
- David Faldet
- Martin Jude Farawell
- Soheila Ghaussy
- Ann Herlong-Bodman
- Michael Lauchlan
- James Lineberger
- John Mahnke
- Neil McCarthy
- Michael Montlack
- Dave Nielsen
- Mark Thomas Noonan
- Linda Tomol Pennisi
- F. Daniel Rzicznek
- Robert Lavett Smith
- Philip Terman
- Randi Ward
- Yim Tan Wong
-
FICTION