One More Before National Poetry Month Ends

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN Sacraments (Thank you, Andre Dubus.) School lunchboxes rarely return empty, unearthed from backpacks burdened with bruised fruit, limp crusts – the lingering refuse of schoolroom trades. Were it food alone they grew on, my children would wither...

A Poem for April

Having Crossed the Sea (Exodus 15) I have seen them, dead along the shore, their bloated faces still ripe with hate. And there was one I stopped at to kick— kick him fiercely and hard in the face the way they kicked my now dead husband who wept at making bricks...