Woody Morris

William Jack Harper

My hand

Palm down

Travels

The breadth

Of your stomach

Held aloft

By the soft fuzz

Of hair

Raised by static

Looking

For an anchor

On which

I can stay

Finding none

We pull to each other

Too close

Too hard

Attempting union

Some other way

And as your hand

Misses mine

Your shock

Of auburn hair

Flashes once

Caught on wind

We grasp

Brace ourselves

And fall into it

Ralph Ward

Jay Delves

Tenaya Steed

Meera Shakti Osborne

Meera Shakti Osborne