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Hermitage Piece

The span of winter afternoons spreads out between the hollow moon’s two distant ends. It is a bear gone far ahead. It is elsewhere.   by Amos J. Hunt Original bio from the Fall 2008 edition: Amos J. Hunt is pleased that he gets a contributor bio this time. This poem first ran in the Fall 2008 edition of ...

Austin Sonnet

Sitting next to you as the sun goes down And dies a world of fire upon the lake. A raised glass empties all the sunset To your cheek; the table spreads horizon-wide. And we sit as we have come, apart By inches. Hundreds of miles of inches. Night comes on. A few boats. Voices drift From the water until they become ...

July 6, 1535: London

Then the axe fell. And the weight of the crowd immeasurably shifted. The soul of the quiet man no longer drew their eyes—whether miserable or indignant— to some convergence on the little scaffold. Some turned uncomfortably to their neighbor, but felt, instead of the easy word or glance, a hollowness about the ...

Sarah Breisch on Monika Cooper

The flight from time is essential to the human condition, but is also a typically modern fancy. We have built our world upon devices and rituals whose sole purpose is to bend time to our will, to escape the perceived bondage we are in to its unrelenting tread. But what we have forgotten, and what this poem by Monika Cooper reminds ...