By Yehuda Amichai, Translated by Chana Bloch
Here at the shore of Ashkelon we arrived atthe end of memorylike rivers that reach the sea.
By Stuart Dybek
There was a burst of static on radios all over the city
My mother died on Shavuot, at the end ofthe Counting of the Omer.Her oldest brother died in 1916; he fell in the war.
A sleeper purifies a room.
By Tess Gallagher
absence is a margin of strongholds. I go out and I go out. Love is sequence and condition: one of the few winter nights
By Richard Eberhart
I spring joy out of my rib cageLike a flash of pigeons flying NorthSouth here in Mississippi, Florida
I didn't make present those days he didn't complain but I knew he was sick, felt sick, and a look would pass between us, a doomed look that nonetheless
By Donald Hall
August, goldenrod blowing. We walkinto the graveyard, to findmy grandfather's grave. Ten years ago
By Peter Cooley
There is a Florida beyond the stars. It is the same state I find waking here, alone with my aloneness in the dark, all things now possible because my own.
By David Baker
At first only fog lifting offthe snow and snow sifting through it,