Atlas A clock is watched in expectation but stars are watchedto see what’s been; not till, past. In the pauses betweensleep cycles they, in their dogged runs, lull us into assuming thattoday’s experience is tomorrow’s promise. Which is what I’m doing now, watching remembered morningturn the redbud suckers thin and bright as crazes in glass, anticipating… Continue reading Winter 2021 – Poetry
A Quarterly Literary and Art Magazine