They walked down the beach toward the wide sea together, my two teenage boys. Getting smaller with the distance until, at the water’s lapping
They walked down the beach toward the wide sea together, my two teenage boys. Getting smaller with the distance until, at the water’s lapping
Our fist issue of Volume 24—CPR Vol. 24, Issue 1—features poems about loss, memory, the past, and the present—what persists and returns to us
Two cars, parked side by side, tick as they cool: the easy, summer banter of metals. Woods consider creaking and splintering wrenching—even devastating—soul-talk. While