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