Over the furrows of the northern field— a coded flash of blackbird wings. Memory bursts from the hedgerows: a pair of girls in skirts and knee socks and weed-flowered hair, a fawn decomposing in the…
Browsing Category Poetry
from Dear Anna by Jon-Michael Frank
Anna, I like that picture you sent me of a wooden chair spotted with pink petals in a misty and abandoned parking lot. I wonder if this is how the healing begins. Sitting in a…
Blasphemy is Easy in Love
Her brothers passed me at the dinner table like salt. Her sisters took me out of each other’s arms with fingers spread to protect my neck. Aunt Margie and Grammie Lorraine prayed three rosaries for…
Blackberries
We could not have been much, two junkyard kids picking blackberries down by the log pond until our thumbs and tongues stung black with love and the footfalls of hunters down by the water made…