fall 2021
Table of Contents
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Swans at the Golf Club
Ruth Daniell
When I See Lake Water
Kristin LaFollette
Making the Most of Our Voices
Ken Victor
What We Carry on a Pilgrimage
Granada, Take Three
Elena Johnson
On the Straightaway to the Rockies
Great Grandpa's Grain Elevator
A Nova Scotian Night Light
Ryan Smith
i decay, bro
erica hiroko isomura
No One Knows How to Be Good
Emily Kedar
Between Then and Then
Millicent Borges Accardi
Boy With Orange
Phillip Watts Brown
The Graveyard Metaphor for Euphoria Kaye Miller
Upon Watching the Rotation of the Earth
Charlotte Vermue Peters
latchkey fragments
Frances Boyle
She's a Pretty Bird
Susan Zimmerman
Say It Delicious
Berry-Picking
Laura Cesarco Eglin
A wrist, a wren, a small knife
Ellen Stone
Somewhere within Kostanay, Kazakhstan Justin Timbol
Late August at the End of the World
Bren Simmers
Granada, Take Three
Where painters succumb to overwhelm,
I attempt to finish a poem.
In every direction, possibilities—
each rooftop spire, each mountain peak.
A 13th century Moorish palace,
the splendour of its fountains alone.
At sundown, each cluster of blackbirds
calling from the branches of an alder.
In a cavern filled with tables,
a musician, eighty-three,
belts out a cante jondo—
the song is older than the singer.
On this cobblestone street, a plaque:
Here lies the home of Enrique Morente.
Here lived Federico García Lorca.
Here is the carmen of Manuel de Falla.
And within his home, a smaller plaque:
Here is the wooden mechanism he built
to roll perfect cigarettes without touching them.