Garden

The dad plants a garden
in tiny yard in front
of six family
digs up dead rose and forsythia.

In school the kid
gets a box of seeds
to sell for PTA.
The kid don’t know anyone with land
for growing all stuck in apartments.

The dad buys four packs,
marigolds, portulaca,
zinnia, balsam.
The dad finds old bricks
makes a ring in center of garden
to fill with flowers
and all along front border,
tomatoes, cukes, peppers
all fit into little yard.

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Muriel Spark

Muriel Spark 1. why and where a tinsel coronet chosen queen of poetry so nice to have one’s hair stroked by a teacher she submerges her telephone his words moisten faraway languages spill from her unheld hand alone she wanders South Africa what a long walk and with a baby robin to feed the earth […]

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Raise Them Up

A. LaFaye is an associate professor of creative writing at Greenville University who wrote the novel-in-verse Pretty Omens and has published poems in El Portal, TipsyLit, and FORTH Magazine. She’s also published over a dozen works of fiction, including the novel Worth and the short story The Weekend previously published on Visitant. Raise Them Up […]

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Whooping Cough, 1952, Age 5

Whooping Cough, 1952, Age 5 I was not trusted to climb eighteen pink stairs without fainting. I carried a porcelain bell. Not trusted with just the washable yellow robe (carry the green towel for cough ups). My chest seemed so small I didn’t know I had a heart. I didn’t trust the brown Zenith radio […]

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Kindling

A spring morning much like others, some daffodils rain-beaten, some perked. Daphne’s lemony fragrance when near enough. The outdoor little library bookcase at the neighbor’s frames the same mythologies, travel guides, and who-dun-its that got us through winter’s downpours. At the abandoned school, morning changes. A man rakes the baseball diamond, listening on earphones that […]

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The Field We Promise

Stephanie was my student. I helped to teach her Writing class, in an elective offered through her suburban public school. Stephanie was sixteen when I met her, and eighteen when we parted ways. Her writing was flimsy when we began, and with many iterations of feedback, suggestions and support, it got markedly better the first […]

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