Contributions by Carolyn Scarbrough
Bee Season
Here, among the hedge of tiger lilies
are a few obscene long throated lilies, garishly
large, each with a lipstick pink star center spayed
wide. The fraying sea of tiger lilies
are practically conservative.
A fat bee enters a tall long throated lily
there by the…
The Art of Respiration
When the call came the car was on empty,
I was late, stopping for gas and
no one in front of me moving fast
enough. The cashier looked at
my scrubs, my badge as I shoved
money toward her, trying to hurry and
It’s True About Owls, Monday Morning
Monday Morning
I read a poem by a woman who
writes that death enters her room, tells her
she will only write about him.
As if any collection of words fails to
bear him along; any sky, any
yawning hour of night, any…
Peonies
Last week, their bulbous buds were
fisted tight and now their extravagance drags
across the sidewalk and dirt, sweetness
riddled with ants. At night the fresh-waxed
cars of prom-going teens pass by, girls
in lavish dresses that will brush all night over
thresholds…
Writing Exercise
It’s nearly midnight and I’ve not yet
done my daily poem. The exercise is
automatic writing—the beginning as simple as
a first word and another and most may,
after all, become the scaffolding into
the real poem, then the opening
is knocked…
Rain Run
I’m running and rain is pouring.
My shoes squish squish and ahead
my dog Bob turns to see if I’m coming
and heads on. I like being surrounded
by this indifferent rain, like even my own carrying on
in this forest. I’ve been waiting
Hospital Lunch, Tuesday Coffee Group
Hospital Lunch
There are things I cannot speak
at dinner parties or
girls’ night out
or that appalled silence comes
that censors everyday evil
and tragedy.
But around this table of nurses,
here, among recipes and vacations,
divorce and children, Missy…