Summer 2015: Poetry
How I Wasted My Life
by Nancy Flynn
after James Wright
One leaf caught
In the fishing line that holds
The bird feeder high
Above a high-wired red squirrel’s reach.
Two webs laced in morning
Bright out the mudroom door.
Whiff of grass in the midst of
Mowing and cloud’s cover returned.
Rain: vertical, horizontal, three-dimensional, wet.
A silver balloon and its lift
Past the window-box geranium pink against
Blackening green, the leaves, this brood-gray light.
One more alder leaf caught in one more
Rain meets wind then
Sun and the drops on the screen,
How they crystal, refract sublime.
All this becoming so late —
Too late? No, everlasting
Now — the only-ever
Truth. I am
Wandering, home by dusk.
Under a vast sky, split.
As hot as the summer sun, 13 poets breathe light into the darkness.
Tending to the worn, imperfect edges of life, five writers grapple with perimeters.
Like a swarm of bees or a flock of birds: four artists layer meaning through detail.
Four teens observe their world and put words to page like only young voices can.
From emerging to established writers – meet the women behind our seventh issue’s voices and visions.