The Beata – a poem by Ray Ball

The Beata The historian: I found in my research into the records of the inquisition that in the beata’s room sat a pot of marmalade, along with bundles of herbs, fragments of leaves, and flowering plants. On her cell wall, a small icon much like the one in the beguinage’s chapel hung. The beata: I […]

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Ongoing – a poem by Jill Pearlman

Ongoing There is always a tiny hole the thin green line left by the setting sun on the sill of the window left open Consider the horizon’s lids — glossy, gleaming lightly separating each moist, parodying the other twins in slow conversation a kiss prolonged perched on the verge bending over a sleeping child peering […]

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