Bhavna Parmar

Freedom

/in , , /

In my hometown
a one-year-old calf—
white, thin, small—
like a wish whispered
from a young mouth into an adult ear—

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Atia Sattar

Hatchling

/in , , /

Dearest, I wonder why
In English the body is both dead
and alive.
                                                          —Aria Aber

i.

My first memories of you
are memories of me

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Matthew Toth

wild/fire/winter

/in , , /

wary of picking the ashes
out from my mother’s 
hair, everything alight yet
nothing glimmering, i fly 
away from disaster like

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Julie Wong

Drought Dream

/in , , /

The dry heat spiderwebbing fault lines onto my knees, loosening the telephone wires that shadow the sidewalk.

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