Salmon River below us, all teem and roil.
Pinned to each crest, remnants of starlight
wink. And that posse of rocks could be
flints, sparking this cold northerly’s
steel
Author: Angela Doll
One night when I am gone
J. M. Jordan recently began writing again after a twenty-year hiatus. He is a Georgia native, a Virginia resident, and a homicide detective by profession. His poems have appeared recently in The Chattahoochee Review, Image, The Carolina Quarterly, Dappled Things, Louisiana Literature, Modern Age and elsewhere.
Brother Frank Walks the Abbey Woods
I never tire of these woods,
having walked them since I arrived
young, intemperate, intent on living
beyond death among these men of practiced habit.
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