Calliope’s Voice

Finnegan Awoken

Bruna Bonino-finnegan

RICHARD BERENGARTEN For Alastair Reid Finnegan wakes and walks in briny air. Gulls wheel and gannets dive. The cliffs are bare. The coast is clear. And nobody is there. He’d dreamed a corner of his dream again might touch his…

The Reason I Climb Trees

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CEAITÍ NÍ BHEILDIÚIN [CATHI WELDON] Na cúiseanna go nDreapaim Crainn Dreapaim crann is mo bhuataisí orm M’iallacha ceangailte, bivouac im phaca agam. Dreapaim an crann is luascaim ann sa ghaoth. Dreapaim crann d’fhonn úll a stoitheadh D’fhonn radharcanna a fheiscint…

Another spring, not for everyone

bruna bonino-per-haiku-droogenbroodt

GERMAIN DROOGENBROODT Left in the grey air as unfulfilled desires smoke of cremation * Hankering for dawn but it won’t rise for them corona victims * The blackbirds wonder why the streets are so empty sorrowful their songs * A…

Poems for the wall

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SILVIA PIO If you were to find yourself in a doctor’s waiting room one day, feeling in question, or at sea, feeling anxious, or even just plain bored, might you be glad of a poem displayed there, on the wall?…

Miracle in Manhattan

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GEORGE GÖMÖRI In the whole of New York what I liked best was the tree: that tree with its dense foliage spreading its arms up there on the roof, green and abandoned as the everyday miracle that is the created…

Green Men and Virgin Goddesses

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BILL LEWIS Green Men Green Men grin and gurn From blackened beams, That creak and groan as Ancient houses dream; Swayed by wind in Branches long since snapped. Foliate faces flower in the Memory of an antique hour, Unwinding beneath…