September 1997
I asked sleep for a few favors.
So a lightbulb became
the sun’s sojourn;
a notebook, the expectant grass;
a crayon, the watering pot;
a scrawl, the gathering dusk;
a train horn, the private night.
dusk
Seven Women In Line at the Pharmacy at Dusk
Seven Women In Line at the Pharmacy at Dusk We are quiet and courteous. The woman with Tylenol lets the bent-over woman go in front with a cart full of incontinence briefs. A man tends the scanner and register. His shirt tail needs tucking in at the back and his hair could use a slicking […]
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As Dusk Falls The sliver of a new moon simmers, iridescent, against deepening blue, delicate as a brushstroke. [image: Waning Crescent Moon | Miguel Claro] — Keep up with Tai Woodville’s many creative pursuits, including a conceptual electronic album, musical appearances, poetry readings and more.
Read more "As Dusk Falls"Winter Woods
Winter Woods White mist drifts through rain-wet pines. Walking through the forest feels like a waking dream. Rubber soles against dark earth, plastered with shed leaves. Looking up, the sky is no-color. A counsel of cedars surrounds me. The further the trees, the more suffused in mist, until the world becomes a sea of clouds. […]
Read more "Winter Woods"Hushabye
Mark Mansfield is the author of one full-length collection of poetry, Strangers Like You (2009, revised 2016 Van der Decken). His poems have appeared in The Adirondack Review, Bayou, The Evansville Review, Fourteen Hills, Gargoyle, Iota, The Ledge, Limestone, Magma, The Opiate, Potomac Review, Pouch, Salt Hill, Scrivener, Unsplendid, Waccamw, and elsewhere. He holds an M.A. in Writing […]
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