Poetry

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Hedy Habra – Three Poems

Beauty is that sense of discovery when young deer stare at us without fear as we walk towards them, or start noticing the spiraling movement of the wind in the cattails surrounding the pond or the elliptical pirouettes of our squirrels and chipmunks.

Fiction

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Flo Au – Shadows

The weather is congenial with the sun blazing. Now she leans onto the railing, stretches her back forward, lifts her head towards the brightest part of the translucent blue sky.

Editorial

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A Temple of Iron – Our 2018 Pushcart Nominations

So there I was, minding my own business, lifting heavy things and putting them back down. I had abandoned the bear cave for an iron temple of my own making. And Brodin had turned his countenance towards this new temple, and he smiled upon it, and he blessed it for the sacred gainz and for the pursuit of the Swole. Wheymen.

Translations

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The Lame Angel – Catulle Mendès (1885) Translated by Patricia Worth

I wish you could see what I see. A vast blue port sparkles in the afternoon sun that shines its bright band across the water. The dazzle makes me look left of it toward the bays and inlets and forested hills on the opposite shore. Below my balcony a cliff held together by lush shrubby trees drops steeply away to the esplanade, quiet on this cool May day.