by Mary Hood
There is an essential human ichor of awe, an instinct for reverence, a gracious sap which rises in us seasonally and flowers into devotions and wreaths. “Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages.” Goon indeed. Every sap has its sucker. See the Continental Divide in Action, the billboard in the Rockies invites. The parking lot is not empty. (When one sparrow decides to bathe, they all splash in.)
by Philip Levine
Fierce and stupid all dogs are
and some worse. I learned this
early by walking to school
unarmed and unprepared
for big city life, which they
had been bred to for centuries.
by Rita Dove
Every face in Nürnberg is beautiful,
but what makes one lovelier than all the others?
And the body—should the breasts be full or piquant?
How much imperfection forestalls boredom—
could it be measured in degrees?
by Judson Mitcham
A boy holds a blown glass sparrow in his hand
and can’t resist testing one finger aginst
a clear, fragile wing. When it gives,
the child looks up at his mother. . . .
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