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 …
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 ...
ARTWRKD invites you to explore “Nocturne,” a series of Monica Ong’s poetic meditations on the things that keep one up at night.
(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.
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, …
Cecelia Shine will read from her works Saturday, May 4, at the annual Reading and Celebration in Tyler Hall on Bucks County Community College’s Newtown Campus. Hailing from Neshaminy High School, …
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 — …
The healing power of poetry will be featured in an “open mic” poetry reading from 6:30 to 8 p.m. Tuesday, April 30, at the Doylestown Library, celebrating National Poetry Month.
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 …
Even during the storm, tonight’s moonlight is generous enough to wend its way through the blinds, shifting patterns on my pillow. So here it is, this full moon in late March, on the cusp of spring, …
At the moment of his death, all the painthat had pulverized his body lifted, woven into a cape of worsted,roughly knotted wool, furled above me, alit, and stitched onto my body. I struggled to stand, …
