Sections | Poetry | The Sun Magazine #16

Browse Sections

Poetry

Poetry

Chance

They talked about it while soaking in an unusually deep / red tub at his rented house. How the constellations / had gone out of their way to align, so that their paths / converged for a time in the redwoods, in a shingled / cottage above the creek.

By Danusha Laméris May 2018
Poetry

My Sister Blazed Through Her Life

When she was young, she had a small part in a play, but everyone looked at her. Dull her down, the director said, throw an old coat over her. They did, but everyone still looked at her.

By Ellery Akers May 2018
Poetry

Lynn Street

My father hadn’t left us yet / but I have no memory / of him living there.

By Matthew LaPierre April 2018
Poetry

The Big Picture

I try to look at the big picture. / The sun, ardent tongue / licking us like a mother besotted /with her new cub, will wear itself out. / Everything is transitory.

By Ellen Bass April 2018
Poetry

That’s What Experience Is All About

You live the first half of your life / Afraid that something will happen.

By Cary Tennis March 2018
Poetry

Illness And Literature

In those cold rooms with the blue plastic chairs, / sometimes the human condition / is an old Texas redneck with a brushy mustache / reading a Louis L’Amour novel / while waiting for his chemotherapy

By Tony Hoagland February 2018
Poetry

The People I Work With Don’t Talk About Trump

We’re janitors, but we’re called floor-crew technicians. / We work at night. / Darius lives in a trailer with his dad / because his dad has cirrhosis and emphysema.

By Mathias Nelson February 2018
Poetry

Mindfulness

I practice a very special / form of mindfulness / called not-minding-ness. / This has brought me peace and purified / my soul to the point that it is almost / possible to live with me.

By Kurt Luchs January 2018
Poetry

Ode To Fat

Tonight, as you undress, I watch your wondrous / flesh that’s swelled again, the way a river swells / when the ice relents. Sweet relief / just to regard the sheaves of your hips, / your boundless breasts and marshy belly.

By Ellen Bass January 2018
Poetry

Selected Poems

from “To My Husband At The Beginning Of The Holy Month Of Ramadan” | Even though you no longer believe, you wake with me / before dawn. You prepare my breakfast: porridge, sliced banana, / a cup of tea, a glass of water.

By Kasia Clarke December 2017