"you composed ocean's floor
without touching

 water's veiled elixir
a map of song:"

 

                           " my legs and my fear-pills turned to powder
and melted plastic on the side of a hill, your hand with mine,
but the rest of you not."

 

Poems
Lillo Way

 
 

"It curls along my limbs and face, showing the courtesy
to leave a little breathing space around my nostrils. I rest
against its bulbous volume. Together we allow the evening
to serenade us –"

 

Passage
Ava C. Cipri

 

" if grief has a sound it doesn't end
it dissipates                  stammers itself out
             like the forgotten wick "

 
 

Image by: barbaragaillewis

 

"April 1945 came
too late. The year our taut American shutters snapped. Still spinning."

 
 

Volume XLII

"CLOUDS OVER FORT LEWIS" ERIC FITZPATRICK, OIL 36" X 60"

"CLOUDS OVER FORT LEWIS" ERIC FITZPATRICK, OIL 36" X 60"