Presence 67

noon heat
the tightening coil
of a rattlesnake

— Bryan Rickert

Lindisfarne —
a white horse ambles
out of the mist

— Sandra Simpson

pond reflections
the many ways to see
what isn’t real

— Adelaide B. Shaw

she becomes
opaque and beautiful
over time
like the sea glass
we collect on the shore

— Bryan Rickert

the judder
of the fan
as it starts up
that moment on waking
when you remember …

— Alison Williams

Drought

I have been sitting at this desk, staring out the window, since dawn. A few hours ago, a kestrel hovered over a patch of bleached grass, and now, in the distance, wisps of virga hang from a growing thunderhead. Later this evening, a few fat spats of rain may stain the patio before vanishing.

blank page
this thirst
for one word

— Lew Watts