Two Poems by Rob Jones

Questions for the Divine Tailor What to wear, oh, what to wear Ill-fitting garments left my soul bare? Can I find, oh, can I find, Attire for me that God designed? There, I see, oh, there, I see Young and old who are dressed properly As I gaze at myself in despair. How can they, oh, how can they So effortlessly find their own way? Yes, it seems, oh, yes, it seems They’re dressed in destiny, draped in dreams. Why must I, oh, why must I Wear hand-me-downs from my Shadowed side? Slowly, I am beginning to fray. I’ve outgrown,

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4 Poems by Chuck Collins

THINGS I FOUND IN A DEAD MAN’S POCKETthe song of a bird I can’t see, but I think is colorfula portion of a cloud folded in half that I suppose is a dream;unfolding it, it was torn like a dreamwind from the edge of the Grand Canyon and the whooshing sound of unanswered puzzlementsthe last breath of exhausting spiritual habitsan unforgiveness; small, but with razor-sharp edgesa thank you note from a poet who, long ago, was his poetry studenta handful of rest from the overcast day he read Matthew 11prayers for his children, like styrofoam peanuts,filled all the empty spaces

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4 Poems by Ed Higgins

MEETING A PRAYING MANTISA Praying Mantis clover to bright emerald green landed on my sleeveand lingered as I workedin my hay field.While I’m not much of a praying person,my concern for a friend suffering from cancerled me to ask the mantisto consider praying for her. The creaturevisibly pulled its legsinto praying position (which I realize actually indicates readiness for preyalthough my sleeve held nothing but this creature and my bemused delight).So I asked the mantis on behalf of my less-believer self,projecting my real hope for my friend beating off the cancer preying on her. The mantis visit ended abruptly thereafter.

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4 Poems by Paul Willis

LATE MORNING HIKE-KU Two eucalyptus: one shaggy, the other clean. Fraternal twins. *Little flower, you are your own breath mint: summergreen. *Double-trunked oak, you are now doing the splits— one self holding sky, the other reaching across the stream. * Sun, so bright within the pool, you bring these striders, one at a time, to sudden glory. *Leaf of toyon— dark-green above, light-green below— why don't you turn over for an even tan? *Santa Cruz, you are an island dream at noon across the channel, ready to wake into clouds.OLD PAIROld pair of eucalyptus, the trail passes between your pillars,an

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4 Poems by Jonathan Chibuike Ukah

HOPEIt's a bird with three feathers and three beaks;the past, the present and the future,the ghost of yesterday and the egg of today;it’s the substance of tomorrow, the thing that liveswhen life has died and gone to the gloam.Like a bird, it soars over the oceans and clouds,waltzes across rivers, seas and the Heaven;it sails beyond lakes, deserts and mountains,hovering over rugged hills and hanging cliffs and the rough necks of the mediocre moon.Its feathers are heavy like irons, strong like oakfluttering with ease over every housetop,skidding on the ragged edge of the earth,like a giant hearse romping to the

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2 Poems by Ryan Service

Dance hallIt took a cousin to convince herto leave the house, where nightly she trapezed her mother’s stepswith strides of separation. Six months knee deep into thatkeen, her night of freedom had arrived and all the hall lights were on,winking across the valley. She’s back.This is heeling for healing, a revoltagainst her danse macabre, to moveout of time and trip over. It was this night she finally left the house and ate rainwith lifted face. It was this night she met her lifelong familiar who would sayyou are what I always wanted.And against the song beat, how his prophecy roared.

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4 Poems by Ben Egerton

Four extracts from & When We Get There Will We Have Been There Forever? Ben Egerton is a poet whose most recent collection is The Seed Drill (Kelsay, 2023). He teaches in the Faculty of Education at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. Ben was Poet in Residence at the Rivendell Institute at Yale for the second half of 2024.

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Four Poems by Mischa Willett

Mischa Willett is the author of The Elegy Beta (2020) and Phases (2017) and editor of Philip James Bailey’s Festus (2022). His poems, essays, translations, and academic articles appear in a wide range of venues. He teaches English at Seattle Pacific University. More information can be found at www.mischawillett.com .

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