“I have bruises too, a smattering, and I know
it doesn’t make sense”

“Thick with the unseen,
the autumn air quivers
with angels.”

by Laura Reece Hogan The time of April ticks onward outside, on the hills, in the chaparral,under sagebrush, an awakening from the ashes and the barren ache. The swallows return,…

I dreamt my old boss into being.
Twenty years invisible, & here she came,
her unimpassioned face, stone jaw,
tone flat as if mediating some dispute.

by Laura Reese Hogan Her swollen hands red in peeling service, dutifully broomingthe floor beneath his feet, beneath his spitting, his foul words, yellowed eyes, beneath his stench and snaking…

Skull well-bruised and numb,
near delirium
I choke and praise the Lord.

“Anything miraculous, we try to rationalize,
to explain in terms of less thrilling science.”