Sections | Poetry | The Sun Magazine #5

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Poetry

Poetry

Updated Portrait In A Grocery Store

Most days I stick to the periphery — / produce and eggs and chicken and cheese — / but tonight I am buying peanut butter, / which here is inexplicably placed / with the popcorn and chips.

By Caleb Nolen July 2022
Poetry

Dudley Ball

The red hair and freckles, puffy cheeks / and constant perspiration amplified / his otherness. No one spoke to him. / But why do I see his face so clearly now, / the fear and loneliness in his eyes? / The faces of all the others I’ve forgotten.

By John Brehm July 2022
Poetry

For Scott, Three Years Since Your Suicide

The world is more confusing without you in it. If you came back / and asked, What’d I miss? I’m not sure where I’d begin. / I think we might have finally ruined the oceans.

By Sarah Hansen June 2022
Poetry

At Sixty-Five

This morning I fell back / into deep snow / and dug myself into a snow angel. / Yeah. I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, / c’mon, right?

By Jim Daniels June 2022
Poetry

In Texas, Thinking Of Georgia

It must have been forty years ago, / my brother and sisters, our mom and dad, / gathered around the fat television / before our Saturday supper / to watch my skinny father / make the evening news.

By John Poch June 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
Poetry

Selected Poems

from “Sleep Skills” | These days I wake up tired / after hours skimming sleep’s / surface like a hungry bird, waiting. / They say it’s a fact of growing older, / to lose the skill for sleep infants / and teenagers effortlessly have.

By Andrea Potos May 2022
Poetry

Wingtips

On my way home from school / with a gang of friends / I would see him outside / one of the bars or diners / near the Journal Square station: / my uncle, rasping the price / of a shine to the passing crowd

By John Bargowski May 2022
Poetry

Last Day On The Factory Floor

We were warned not to complain — / plenty more temps they could call. / Warned, too, to avoid the break room / with its jailhouse camera / swiveling right outside the boss’s office, / his speakers playing only country.

By Michael Meyerhofer May 2022
Poetry

What I Didn’t Say

And I didn’t say there is no philosophy of life that covers this / I didn’t say how am I supposed to breathe when you stop

By Beverly Hartz April 2022
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