The Bearberry Elegies

Nick Ripatrazone

Old lobster traps piled in the backyard near the bearberry. Mold had marked the wood blue-green, the color of bay tide at dusk. After a rainstorm I would lay with…

Afterbirth

Megan Mayhew Bergman

Like loons we travel underwater great distances, to surface next to each other . . . No matter where you are or who you’re near, we come up for air…

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