Category: Poetry

To knead the breath of a single olive shoot
is the scent of silver-green,
cerulean winds toting Aegean brine

upon their tendrils,
your thirst for weeping sea
mixing memory with dreams devouring.

David Mason – Three Poems From the chapter “Davey’s Blue Monday” in...

Ed Higgins Grunion Fishing “Of course, most of the things I look back on fondly I never actually...

Pat Hanahoe-Dosch – Three Poems What the Tide Brings: Surf clams and quahogs, horse mussels...

Sharon Scholl – Three Poems The Subtleties of Distance As with stars, one against the other,...