Author: The Editor

"From tuliptrees to eastern hemlock groves: / we climbed until the yellow birches tangled air."

"Eventually, I grab the back-door key / from the cup-holder, slip a folded list / into my pocket"

"Nothing on earth / can last forever. / It's become an art"

"There are some things we just don't talk about, / Not even in the morning, when we're waking"

"I say, Without a God there is no hell. / There’s only this—. "