I’m going to just jump right in without preamble. These poems stand on their own!
The Three Poems by Emily Paige Wilson in Longleaf Review are thrilling in their use of language, like a trapeze artist making us hold our breath until the triumphant end. I love, love, love how she weaves together herbal lore, earth treasures, and the human body into her verse in the most unexpected ways, especially in “Poet as Doctor (II)”:
Write perfume in cursive until the pneumonia
in your lungs loosens. Thread silver through
your teeth to tempt splinters from your skin.
Dissolve geode into fine grains on your tongue,
swallow to ease the gout out of your teased
and tangled toes.
“Europa” by Echo Wren in Rattle reads like galaxies floating in space – the words a grouping of stars sparkling for our pleasure.
And now the cold of the universe
touches his cheek as he drifts
farther and farther to where
we cannot touch him.
“Silence” by Emma Gleeson in Poethead. As a self-proclaimed (and content) introvert I find this poem is a pretty perfect commentary on that subject.
I have to sink myself into someone
like a hot bath,
the first touch being too much
small talk singes my skin,
always too thin
“The Trees are Burning at Midnight” by Robert Okaji in Fourth and Sycamore is special to me because I suggested the title during Robert’s stint in the 2016 Tupelo Press 30-30 Challenge. I love the lyricism in this poem and how the first lines draw you in.
What signal tars this moon-blessed night?
And where may we find relief
in these hidden sights? The lure
is not the trap. The trap is not
desire, but desire’s aim.
He had me at “Moon-blessed night”. May we all have many such nights.
Photo via Pixabay