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Romantic Love

The Dog-Eared Page

Poetry By Sparrow And Alison Luterman

When I worked as a manuscript reader for The Sun, I didn’t always agree with founder and editor Sy Safransky about poetry. . . . But there were two poets whose work always appealed to both of us: the Bay Area poet and essayist Alison Luterman and New York City’s kindest oddball, Sparrow. . . . It’s my honor to introduce both poets, whose rewarding, divergent work has been crucial in shaping the voice and image of The Sun for decades.

— Ann Humphreys

By Sparrow & Alison Luterman June 2023
Poetry

Some Quiet Evenings

I go out to sit with them — thin / insects tuning their strings, / the night’s first bat casting / in the breeze — and remember / that evening, hot and windless, / a new lover stripping / my bed, spreading my sheets / on the moonless grass.

By AE Hines June 2023
Readers Write

Tattoos

A memorial, an act of rebellion, a reminder of survival

By Our Readers April 2023
Readers Write

Dating Apps

Meeting a spouse, rediscovering an ex, matching with yourself

By Our Readers March 2023
Announcements

This Month In Sun History

Our 50th Year Of Publication

Although The Sun had already released three books of material from its pages, The Mysterious Life of the Heart, released in February 2009, was the first to be centered on a theme: romantic love.

By The Sun January 2023
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Bat Season

These were strange and intoxicating expeditions. At the cliff-lined ends of forest-service roads or the edges of muddy cattle tanks, or in the cricket-loud groves where saguaros gave way to oaks, I would help stretch nets on moonless evenings. Bats fluttered into the thin weave and were trapped, toothy and screaming.

By River Reyes August 2022
Fiction

Blue Ladder

My uncle finally kicked me out, and I was living in the twenty-four-hour Kroger on Fairhaven Avenue in Tustin, California, pilfering food and sleeping at the coffee bar. One day Mr. Muniz pushed a cart through the frozen-foods section where I was fanning myself, and he stopped. I’d gotten ugly, my face wasn’t right, and I could tell he was thinking, What the hell?

By Bruce McKay August 2022
Poetry

Love In Our Seventies

We don’t take each other for granted, because we know we’re old. Sometimes when we’re bird-watching — field guides, binoculars — happy to be looking at egrets or green-winged teal, I think, One of us is going to die first.

By Ellery Akers June 2022
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Without Ceasing

You never grew tired of watching her work. You loved the hum of the machine, the sawdust that stuck to her sleeve, and how she bent her head over the wood like something swan. You knew she was sharing something intimate with you. You were witnessing prayer.

By Sophie Ezzell May 2022
Readers Write

Intimacy

In a college dorm, in a prison, in a marriage

By Our Readers May 2022