We Sleep Beneath Stars of Parallel Trajectories
by Shannon Castleton

From the window, I watch two geese in the yard—one flies north; the other hesitates, flies south. Love, we haven’t loved in so long— the cherry petals blush and fall from their branches, a few notes still cling to the wind chime. I bend to lift a book from your face, press a kiss to … Continue reading We Sleep Beneath Stars of Parallel Trajectories
by Shannon Castleton

He Asks Why I Can’t Get My Mind around Happiness
by Shannon Castleton

Because when I turn to a window, there’s always something in the air, not falling—a leaf in a current, a wisp of cotton; green finches scissor by like the pulse on a heart monitor, and you know it will all drop somewhere. Like tiptoeing a tightrope. Like: in the months before the retriever died, he … Continue reading He Asks Why I Can’t Get My Mind around Happiness
by Shannon Castleton

Shannon Castleton

Shannon Castleton’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in journals such as The Cortland Review, Folio, Literature and Belief, and Sycamore Review. She is a graduate of The MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College, and lives with her family in Pennsylvania.