and the casket cream white,
done off-white with pink
roses, and her face
in the casket
off-white
with pink lips.
one of those griefs
where the people are quiet,
except for her sister,
once, sobbed like a saw
through the service,
pulling lumber to pieces,
sending birds out of trees,
knocking down toilet seats
in all nearby houses.
Orion’s slow tumble from winter’s black
announces our day’s sunup meal, the birds and me;
finches are first to pick-peck fall’s bounty.
Sagging branched apples offer their exposed flanks
to the songbirds’ mixed tape this December morn’.
Flap-flitting from appled branch to next sweet tidbit.
A furtive dance of
jab, glance, nibble, glimpse.
the hardest thing
about this memory is
how it keeps coming back
to me, still
holding warmth like peach tea
left out in midday sun like
the midday sun that came
floating back
across the canal white rose petals
skitter-scattered
across the ruffled surface
released by hesitant hands and
coming home
shivering.
Read more "Venice"Anum Sattar is a recent graduate from the College of Wooster in Ohio, USA. Her poems have been published in the American Journal of Poetry (Margie,) Notre Dame Review, Meniscus Journal by Australian Association of Writing Programs, Lullwater Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Triggerfish Critical Review, Coal City Review and Florida Review. She won the first […]
Read more "bitter tea"Kenneth Kesner left school after reading in European classics and philosophy then sought a career teaching in East Asia, where he began to study martial arts and write poems. Some recent work is included or forthcoming in Children of Orpheus (Subterranean Blue Poetry), The Ibis Head Review, The Opiate, Otis Nebula and Tule Review. myth rural china 1961 a field where women are planting […]
Read more "myth rural china 1961"Below is Part 5 of 18 monthly installments for Visitant. ◄◄ Read the first installment / prologue ◄ Read the previous installment, BEULAH BIRDIE Betta’s usual table had been reserved for two at Ridgemont’s. It was at her normal position in the center of the room. She had also insisted tea be on her credit. This was in […]
Read more "A Coven in Essex County | Birdie"I’m filling my Earl Grey tea cup this morning at work when the weirdest water cooler conversation bubbles up. “Let me ask you a strange question.” I smile nervously, “OK.” “You ever close your eyes and press your fingers into your eyelids?” “Yeah, fireworks light show.” “Exactly!” He flutters his eyes closed and lightly demonstrates […]
Read more "On Floaters and Flashes"memory is paper . . . a thin veil against light scribbled on colored in (sk)etched out painstakingly noted between thin blue and thick red dashes indications of lines to cut, lines to stay within. written rubbered stamped erased embellished boldened copy / paste. stained concentric circular rings starting then stopping time with morning coffee […]
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