Sand Crabs We wait for the rows of twinned slits to appear like closed eyes on the surface of the swash zone.My stubby six year old...

Treading Water My coach told me I'd be a butterfly -er if only I added grace to my freestyle. I don’t remember learning to swim, but I...

Return to Harborside tidal markings underline a span of palm, index finger crooked, an arch bridge over a typewritten sea, a projection,...

Love of the Angler a tanka What devastation— the in-malleable nature of my body in your eye. Pricked by the steel...

Antsy   Current week -- Stuck between Xmas and Auld Lang Syne --   Is tough weak Literary journal Periodwise for us Ambitious poets  ...

By Ajise Vincent   “she was free in her wildness. she was a wanderess, a drop of free water. she belonged to no man & to no city”...

Crab Trap (for Jackie Bastian)   Sand in our sandals. Two sirens in tow.   One warm summer evening. The stars all aglow.   We paired...

two oceans august. glimpses of life beyond the bridge. warmth dancing over burnt skin. a silver ring hangs in midair. garnets, pearls...

Fanfare The carpenter bees thriving in the eaves and the obliterating sun, the futility of a breeze, the roses with hooked thorns, the...

Sea dreaming   When the sun beats down in Cambridge I long to see the sea, to taste the salt that's in the air, to paddle leisurely.   To...

Tidal Prophecy: Gezeitenwelle   We don’t know the sea, you say, gazing from the sky-stretching pier. Bricks towering over rippled sand,...

Brandt’s Cormorants   Ghoulish cormorants forage California Current, plunge forty feet below ocean waves, skewer their next silvery meal,...

Triolets - Seeking After Driftwood “We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected on the deep.” - William James  ...

By Ralph La Rosa My inner fish alerts me, when I’m peckish, that through eons I’d been a dish delish, to fish! That even now I nosh kin’s...

The Collector   I once saw a lighthouse that pulled poems to the shore: sleek fishy poems that cut through the water like shooting stars,...

By Beata Stasak     Fear prickling my feat try to ignore the pounding in my ears five meters beneath me the dark...

3 May 2022 On Russia's Invasion of Ukraine   It will go To the wrong Town. And             Others             insulated Their windows....

Pure escapism I’ll bet she’s the type that secretly reads door-stop Gothics and would go for a square cleft jaw and strong silence if she...

See How They Watch You    See how they watch you: a neighbors’ dog lying supine at your feet, cats in every alley with a hungry look, a...

Droughts (dry sources) The dry watercourse. A stream bed that led to a dry source, the way lit by glow-worms. Something about water on...