I fell in love with a field of rye. It happened this spring for the first time and I am not young. Let me tell you how this field was both a single being and a multitude.
Tristan Buttigieg is a singer-songwriter, musician and poet.
I stood at the edge of the gorge near the abandoned Allegheny coal mine.
The swallows of the evening have no worries
They appear and disappear like a meteor shower – if meteors could be resurrected to new life after burning out.
it’s morning on July’s Fourth we set out on our ritual walk where Washington’s untried army once heroically crossed high on this hillside …
I watch my grandson navigate his morning clothes, these undies, those shorts, this shirt, who cares what color, challenging what his three-year-old brain knows of spatial geometry …
There’s a corrosive little wake when Queen Latifah flicks her wrist miasming an omnipresent piano so she can turn her heart back to Eileen & find love in grief or another day will come.
He’d yell before I went anywhere especially if it was with a boy. He thought there were payphones everywhere. I guess he forgot we didn’t live on a Philly city block anymore.
You ask what fills the air this moonless night; barefoot, we move toward the scent. Moist grass summons childhood and trees are giants on the path.
Chalfont, Pennsylvania To rest beneath a canopy of sky Dappled by euphoric blossoms Pink as dawn and fragile ...
The poem “peaches and linen” brought a tear to my eye (Poet’s Corner, May 16). At 16 years old molly jones has incredible insight and sensitivity.Her ability to forgive is more than many people …
(Celebrating the 215th anniversary of Bethlehem A.M.E. Church, Langhorne) barrels of light etched itself across a log cabin, bearing a magnitude as gentle as a dove resting at dawn.
im 16 and i love strawberries and perfectly ripe peaches. i grew up in jersey and i love it there too. everything is legal in new jersey. im good at painting and bad at confrontation. i care too much …
The skull is packed in my attic. Perhaps I should warn my daughter, assuming she will be the one to sort my life once it’s done. It doesn’t smell anymore. It took a soaking in bleach and days of …
Cherry, Cherry, why do you weep? Is it due to your exquisite beauty, Produced without obligation or duty? Do you weep happy streams of rosy tears, Rejoicing in the spring season that nears? Cherry, …
What did I want to do when I came back to write — to detail the drift — two wild hares a dead mouse, a tiny beautiful owl one of the hares chewed up and now this —a tortoise’s muddy back — …
There’s a kind of love, maybe just compassion, that we feel for old peopleany old person. And when the we is the significant other of the old personit is love, it’s love added to the regular …
Wind chimes hang high in the branches Above a roughhewn house on a hill of cedar Suspended by a single golden hair A rooster crows in the distance I wake and the vision fades But still the dream …
It is said that before entering the sea a river trembles with fear.— Khalil GibranI relish days in solitudelanguishing in this estuarybefore being propelledinto the merciless oceanSwallow melike …
