DPF / Doyle

Another for the day, from Poetryfoundation.org.

from The City’s Oldest Known Survivor of the Great War / by James Doyle

marches in uniform down the traffic stripe
at the center of the street, counts time
to the unseen web that has rearranged
the air around him, his left hand
stiff as a leather strap along his side,
the other saluting right through the decades

DPF / Robertson

For weather reports, from the weather, by Lisa Robertson.

from Monday / by Lisa Robertson, b.1961

The day pours out space, a light red roominess, bright and fresh. Bright and oft. Bright and fresh.

DPF / Reece

For the littlest ones and chaplains, from American Poets, Spring-Summer 2014.

from ICU / by Spencer Reece

In the neonatal ICU, newborns breathed,
blue, spider-delicate in nests of tubes.
A Sunday of themselves, their tissue purpled,
their eyelids the film on old water in a well

DPF / Lies

For bats in polka dot bathing suits, from my little boy’s library.

from Bats on the Beach / by Brian Lies

Little bats dig their sand caves deep,
as old bats lie in the moon, asleep.

DPF / Samyn

For postcards and rivers, from The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Prose Poetry.

from Wish You Were Here / by Mary Ann Samyn

Then, cranes, three: a dream, a painting,  a photograph.

DPF / Hu

For art, from The Rose Metal Field Guide to Prose Poetry.

from Lisboa, 1755 / by Tung-Hui Hu

I was watching Joao Manuel de Lourenco fashion a ring out of some inscrutable alloy