Day 12

Spring Morning
by S.A. Bowden

i wish i had
a good word
to describe
the open window
the early sunrise, soft and blue
the quiet except for birds chirping
the cool breeze i feel
under just one sheet
waking up after a good sleep
Knowing for now i am free


by Rachel Pontious

They say funerals are only for the living.
And it’s about as true as you can get
For a broad, 6-word phrase.
Why else would they read Scripture
And play church hymns
At the funeral of a man so committed to atheism
As Moses to leading the Jews out of Egypt?

Turn the bile in the back of your throat
And the sinking, petrifying stone in your stomach
To a beautiful whirlwind of mascara streaks
And forlorn stares into the distance.
Turn the 5-hour dull roar
Into something pure
The length of a pop song.

So after the organ plays its mournful tune
And the priest spins his angelic words
And you admire the way the red eyes contrast the black cloaks
You will step outside into the fresh air and say,
“That was a beautiful service.”
And you will return to your life.
And pay no mind to the ugly cacophony underneath.
For here is another broad, 6-word phrase:
Anything sounds good set to music.


by Sam Yoseph

Through the window glass,
You see a person
Who walks like he’s drunk,
And bystanders stare.

You see the medics
Pull up and carry
Someone to their truck
As they just gave birth.

You see the homeless
Huddled around tents
Cradling children
To protect from harm.

You see a couple
Holding hands then smile
Because they are now
Soon-to-be married.

You see two women,
Eyes nervous and wild
As one walks up and
Hands the other drugs.

You see your own face,
Turn to ambition,
Walking from hatred
And you go reflect.


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