DPF / Smith

From the new APR, July/August 2014.
https://www.aprweb.org/

from Samsara / by Charlie Smith b. 1947

a man of Africa,
traveled ages to sit before the #2 Concerto in A Minor. In my dream,
cabbage roses

DPF / Martin

I like this title. What is this world? It is. This one’s from Thrush Poetry Journal: an anthology of the first two years, ed. by Helen Vitoria. Thrush Press is here, and then there’s a brief bio:
 http://www.thrushpress.com/
http://www.pw.org/content/mg_martin

from it is / by M.G. Martin

it is inside the return of a sorrow only known on an ocean floor.

DPF / Gray

More birds. Another from, Bright Wings, ed. by Billy Collins. More here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/juliana-gray

from Rose-Breasted Grosbeak / by Juliana Gray

heart’s blood, blush or flush or crush of wine-
dark berries over snow.

DPF / Kingsley

An oceany-y one, from the ABZ First Book Poetry Prize 2013, winner: Traceries. More here and here:
http://www.amethystarsenic.com/issues/4-1/jean-a-kingsley.php
http://abzpress.sharepoint.com/Pages/2013PoetryPrizeWinner.aspx

from Private Chambers / by Jean A. Kingsley

like the grand armada of gallied whales
who spiral in toward the middle

creating a sleek on the ocean’s surface

DPF / Peacock

For miracles. This one’s from the book, Villanelles, ed. by Annie Finch and Marie-Elizabeth Mali. More here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/molly-peacock

from Little Miracle / by Molly Peacock b. 1949

No use getting hysterical.
The important part is: we’re here.
Our lives are a little miracle.

DPF / Lawless

This one’s for hope. I have done this before, too. More here & here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/inspire-hope
http://amylawless.blogspot.com/

from Inspire Hope / by Amy Lawless

it is crucial to stack fifty pounds of books on the left-hand side of my bed

DPF / Squillante

A bird day. This one is lovely Thrush Press Broadside 17, a broadside I recently received in the mail.
http://www.thrushpress.com/our-broadsides.html
http://allthingsedible.wordpress.com/

from Flight / by Sheila Squillante

bright feathers shoulder past the window

you watch them

                                        fluster