On Ice

By NATHANIEL PERRY 

 

The dogwood makes a second

skin of winter rain.

The form’s the thing, the sky

is saying as it drains

 

our language of descriptors:

crystalline? No, not glassy

either, or prismatic

or delicate or flashy

 

(not showing off or making

a beacon of the day’s

small sun) or fragile, or mine,

or ours. There are only the ways

 

it mimics what it itself

can’t say, but re-covers instead

in clarity—the way

the world gets locked in our heads.

 

[Purchase Issue 13 here]

Nathaniel Perry is the author of Nine Acres, winner of the APR/Honickman First Book Prize. He is the editor of The Hampden-Sydney Poetry Review and lives with his family in rural Southside Virginia.

Julia PikeOn Ice

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Friday Reads: June 2017

We love any excuse to hear from our contributors! This month, our Issue 13 authors and poets tap into their literary communities as they recommend works by colleagues, friends, and Pulitzer Prize winners. United in their affection, the authors are nonetheless divided by their selections, as their choices shed light upon nowhereness, colonization, and Florida oranges.

Good Boys

MEGAN FERNANDES
Once in a car, a good boy / shook me hard. If you like it / that way in bed, then why are you… / the tiny bruises on my arms / where his prints pressed into my pink/ sleeves rose to the surface like rattles. / Like requests. They thrived there / for a week until they settled /