“How one can stack stones into temples,
blood on the brow, eyes red with grief”

Say James Baldwin was right and white christians
only wage a dispassioned war against
this nation’s original sin. hands washed
in blood,
At the hard line where the trees begin
one darkness opens into another.
The memory of fire illumines the underbrush
with the brightness of all that is dying.
by Janice L. Freytag I watch the sparrows so many this yearplay in the lady’s thumb weeds,flitting up to landon the pink florets, ridinggravity down to the…
by Paul Ilechko Curled and crumbled in uponas bee stung as lips turning from yellowbeneath the variegated purples that still holdstrong against the summer’s decay night will force recoverydrinking…
by Larry Pike Security camera footage remained uncleardespite the techs’ attempts to enhance it.Did Eve hesitate before she relentedand reached for the alluring orb dangling on a tender stem? Fluttering…
your chest thudding with the sound.
Hurtling across the land like this,
you may realize something,
“Her horse walks by her side,
never wavers, ivory pillar legs,
wide back, brown eyes scan ahead,
then his foot catches on a stone,
stumbles briefly, pulls back firmly.”