Life Under the Stove Light
There’s a photo of a man somewhere above an old obituary. The color picture has started to run and bleed. He is thinning on top and his...
LE TEMPS PERDU
There. The full Moon. A ghost. Pieces of you Falling to earth, walk Straight through me. My fingers clutch the sky, aching To catch your...
A Lunar Haiku
Moon shadow—tall, clear serenity brewing with depth—I am the moon. By Libby Hill Photograph and Poem by Libby Hill
A Small Breeze in October
Nothingness moves across the surface of the earth like a pack of hounds at hunt, sprinting snout first without a sound, and trammeling...
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