Laura Johnson

by Karen Breen Volt(a)/aic/age after Anne Marie Rooney’s “Overture” The lighted blue. Swell. The third return. The locals croqueting at the park. No one in gazeboes w/o cigs. Bright-finding & heat. I have not withdrawn. When I remember, I smack against square hoops. Mallets that sent me: their sphere. Bent fingers pinched between two of […]

by Clara Silverstein Trespassing at the Homeplace I know every invasive, every bulb with ruffled purple fisted in its center, the rock wall’s shine of poison ivy, and the willow, a spangled cathedral for remains of our pets. Someone else is taking shelter under the forsythia, its splinters of yellow each dreary March, and the