Category Archives: CPR Volume 20, Issue 3

CPR Volume 20, Issue 3, October, 2018

Naming the Day
by Phillip Sterling

He had asked and in reply—

swallowtail, joe-pye weed,
balloon flower, skipper

—the boy recalls a beach
where his father is teaching

the perfection of stone,
honed smooth and flat as

possible and best sized,
if possible, to fit exactly

the thumb and forefinger
of one’s throwing hand,

and to send it on a plane
like a pilot practicing

take-offs and landings,
and when they plumbed

the clear shallows of Lake
Michigan for more skippers

the boy learned bouyancy
as well, how to hold one’s

breath just so as to make
him float

—his mind a kind
of butterfly of its own . . .

He had asked and in reply

—his father spoke of botany
and geology, of physics,

foment of flower and rock,
and other words of love.


Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 3.

Phillip SterlingPhillip Sterling is the author of two poetry collections, And Then Snow and Mutual Shores, a collection of short fiction, In Which Brief Stories Are Told, and four chapbook-length series of poems: Significant Others, Quatrains, Abeyance, And for All This: Poems from Isle Royale. He has served as Artist-in-Residence for both Isle Royale National Park and Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

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A Day of Good News
by Sherry Rind

I raked the wet apple-leaves into the hen yard
where the young chickens prowled around the pile, suspicious of this new thing

until the boldest, the chestnut tinted Rhode Island Red
picked at a leaf, dropped it, lifted a minute bug,
stepped forward, followed by the other three

and then began their dance of foot forward and pulling back
head dipping for larvae and woodlice,
the hidden eggs of slugs and millipedes
forward, back, peck, muttering and singing to each other

until all the leaves were spread across the pen
as they had been over the lawn;
now each one examined and plucked clean,
a tablecloth of gold and brown covering the mud
churned now with manure, food for microbes

that will pick apart the fabric
and leave lacework skeletons and leaf mold
for worms to weave through their veiny tunnels in the soil—
the red hen and black, the tan and ochre
turning and turning the leaves, not attending
to the misty rain laying over us a beadwork like crystal.


Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 3.

Sherry RindSherry Rind is the author of four collections of poetry and editor of two books about Airedale terriers. She has received awards from the National Endowment for the Arts, Anhinga Press, Artist Trust, Seattle Arts Commission, and King County Arts Commission. Her poems have appeared recently in Cloudbank, Marathon Literary Review, Crosswinds, Weatherbeaten, Shark Reef Review, and others.

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by Susan Okie

I pearl a leaf’s bottom,
a marble drinking light,

hatch out minute,
green as the leaf I rest on,

devour, mixing its yellows
with my blood’s blue

to match this leaf,
the next, the next, eating

my way down stems,
no time to savor. Your fruits

are dreams. I’m my own
ballooning. I embody,

transform—goliath worm,
a giant, pliant,

undulant cigar.
I swell till you can’t miss

the white diagonal stripes,
red horns. Wait

for the day I don’t eat:
time for a spell in Hades,

playing dead. Know it
by the cord pulsing

down my back—my heart,
rising to light.


Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 3.

Susan OkieSusan Okie is a doctor, a poet, and a former Washington Post medical reporter. She received her MFA in Poetry from Warren Wilson College. Her work has appeared in The Gettysburg Review, The Bellevue Literary Review, and elsewhere. Her poem, “Perseid,” was chosen by Michael Collier as the first prize winner in the 2012 Bethesda Poetry Contest.

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