Blue-Collar Man by Arvilla Fee

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Blue-Collar Man

My daddy was a blue-collar man

in a blue-collar town

back when prices were up

and wages were down

they called it a recession

and I guess we were poor

but I had bologna and bread,

couldn’t ask for much more

just a kid climbing trees

while my daddy worked hard

I read books on the branches

licked jam from a jar

he’d come home at midnight

after a long second shift

I’d be asleep in my bed

my dreams set adrift

I had skates and a bike

never minded my clothes

skinned up my knees

drank from a hose 

grew up in a house

where we followed the rules

respected our elders

didn’t backtalk in school

he taught me to work hard

to get up when kicked down

My blue-collar daddy

in our blue-collar town

© Arvilla Fee

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Arvilla Fee

Arvilla Fee, from Dayton, Ohio, has been published in numerous presses, and her poetry books, The Human Side This is Life, and Mosaic: A Million Little Pieces are available on Amazon. Arvilla’s life advice: Never travel without snacks. To learn more, visit her website and her new magazine: https://soulpoetry7.com/

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Snow, Sunlight, Trumpet by Yongbo Ma

Elina Volkova

Snow, Sunlight, Trumpet

Snow and sunlight both leave me weak,

these things that seem polar opposites

share the same essence deep inside,

both blind my eyes, leaving me unable to see.

To perish by ice, or to perish by fire—

an unanswered question,

yet little more than a sigh.

Like a French trumpet in the afternoon,

drifting over from another room,

its curved neck, like a young swan’s,

glimmers with the cold sheen of frozen oysters from the Alps.

So I tie a knot around its neck,

tuck it back into its hollow body,

then, with a flock of magpies sweeping over power lines,

I fly toward the empty monastery north of the Songhua River, and read aloud a poem against vulgar gluttony.

© Yongbo Ma

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Yongbo Ma

Yongbo Ma (Ma, Yongbo) is a Ph.D., representative of Chinese avant-garde poetry, and a leading scholar in Anglo-American poetry. He has published over 80 original works and translations since 1986, including 6 poetry collections. He focuses on translating and teaching Anglo-American poetry and prose, including the works of Dickinson, Whitman, Stevens, Pound, Williams, and Ashbery. He recently published a complete translation of Moby Dick, which sold over half a million copies. He teaches at Nanjing University of Science and Technology.

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Carol and Big Herbie by Ralph Dranow

Ceren Büşra SEVTEKİN

Carol and Big Herbie

My sister, Carol, died early last year,

bedridden for a long time,

suffering from dementia, diabetes,

and various other ailments,

a shadowy presence.

I search my memory,

discover a brighter scenario.

My family is on vacation

on a farm in upstate New York.

I’m about nine, Carol five.

The German American owners’ teenage son, Herbie,

tan, slender, dark strands of hair

falling over his forehead,

is going to feed the chickens and collect eggs.

Carol and a few other little kids

are chasing after him,

a country Pied Piper.

“Big Herbie!” Carol shrieks,

amidst a chorus of “Big Herbies.”

She’s giggling, her face radiant,

chubby little legs churning,

as she reaches out to touch him,

clutch him like a favorite toy. 

There’s a patient, amused smile

etched on Herbie’s handsome features,

as if Carol’s greedy hands

are just a gentle breeze

on a warm summer day.

But what I most remember

is the happiness pervading Carol’s whole being.

© Ralph Dranow

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Ralph Dranow 

Ralph Dranow works as an editor, poetry teacher, and oral historian. His most recent books are At Work

on the Garments of Refuge, poems of his and poems and artwork of his late friend Daniel Marlin. And Jelalludin Rumi Comes to Oakland. Ralph's website is http://www.ralphdranow.net.

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Prompt by Stan Sanvel Rubin

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Prompt

As if you could say goodbye

to the same person

in the same moment

like a scene from a play

recurring at regular intervals

but with different actors

or talk from both sides

of the Event Horizon

surrounding a black hole

destined to swallow us—

Booya Booya

the offstage hotshot whispers

gesturing like shooing a fly.

It’s his duty to remind us

who we are playing

and where we are this time

in a script

we never memorized.

We go where we are told

in the places marked

which we never noticed

in the shadows that guide us

wary steppers

whose feet fit perfectly

where light must be.

© Stan Sanvel Rubin

Stan Sanvel Rubin

Stan Sanvel Rubin’s poems have appeared in numerous US magazines as well as in China, Canada, Belgium, India, and Ireland. Four full-length collections include Hidden Sequel (Barrow Street Poetry Book Prize) and There. Here. (Lost Horse Press). He lives on the North Olympic Peninsula of Washington.

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Baby by William Ogden Haynes

Szabina Nyiri

Baby

At age fifteen with no husband, she carried him for 

nine months. And as he grew, she experienced the 

trials of morning sickness, the torment from classmates 

in high school, and loads of guilt and regret. She

worried about the uncertainty of the baby’s future 

and her own. The nuns at the Catholic Church told 

her to keep the baby, that she didn’t want to compound 

her sin by having an abortion. He learned her heartbeat

in the darkness of her womb and felt every breath

she took before he saw the light of day. And when

he was born, she held him only briefly before they

took him to a temporary foster home. Then, she knew 

she would never hold him to her breast, learn the 

language of his cries, or sing him a lullaby. After 

she signed the papers, they told her she was courageous 

and doing the right thing, but all she felt was emptiness. 

Somewhere, there was a family waiting with a baby’s 

room newly painted and furnished. A family that would 

hold him confidently with steady hands, not the unsure, 

trembling ones of his biological mother. A family who 

will call him home with a name she will never know. 

She chose his tomorrow over her today, knowing 

that some gifts are too precious to keep, and the deepest  love is sometimes best expressed by saying goodbye.

© William Ogden Haynes

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William Ogden Haynes

William Ogden Haynes is a poet and author of short fiction from Alabama, born in Michigan. He has published several collections of poetry, and many of his poems and short stories have appeared in literary journals and anthologies. http://www.williamogdenhaynes.com

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Other Voices by Ken Gierke

Kássia Melo

Other Voices

The solitude blowing off

the water will stretch the truth of this,

as it replies to words meant only for you.

Sifting your fingers through stones

at the water’s edge, trying to find

that one that speaks to you, do you know

it will look like all the others, once it dries

and the wind has taken its voice?  Gather

its companions, stir them

in your hand, hear them speak.  Know

there are others who have walked this path,

played this scene in their minds.

"Other Voices" first appeared in Ken Gierke’s poetry collection, Glass Awash.

© Ken Gierke

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Ken Gierke

Ken Gierke writes poetry primarily in free verse and haiku. Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, he has been featured by numerous journals and anthologies. His poetry collections from Spartan Press are Glass Awash (2022), Heron Spirit (2024), Random Riffs (2025), and The Long Haul (2026). His website: https://rivrvlogr.com/

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Last Mile by Michael Braswell

Hugo Ayala

Last Mile

How will we walk our last mile?

In a shuffling march behind an endless line

of boarding passes on the ready?

Or will we walk an ancient path into an unknown forest

following the scent of evergreen and scattered light 

dancing on a mountain stream.

What will we listen for?

The last call of the train’s whistle 

heading for the certainty of the destination’s end

or will we hear the tree frog’s song of Nature’s call,

following the possible invisible path?

© Michael Braswell

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Michael Braswell

Michael Braswell has published books on ethics, justice issues, and the spiritual journey as well as four short story collections. His poems and stories have appeared in several publications, including Foreshadow, Mobius, and Literary Heist. His most recent books are When Jesus Came to the Cracker Barrel (2024) and Gracious Plenty (2025).

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Last Morning in the Old House by Ruth Harper

Olavi Anttila

Last Morning in the Old House

The first tentative chirps of the day

summon me to the dark porch 

with my coffee. Daylight appears, 

making softly lit candles of the treetops.

The leafless birch is adorned,

a mobile collage of perfect cedar waxwings,

their crests backlit in the brightening dawn.

A slowly expanding spotlight, the sun 

advances through the branches,

revealing tiny black masks across their eyes,

the pale yellow and silky gray of their graceful bodies.

They flit from limb to limb, 

a game of trading places,

flashing their bright red wax spots.

The birds’ soft whistles rise, 

a collective sigh;

the small blessings they bestow sweeten what is left in my cup.

© Ruth Harper

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Ruth Harper

Ruth Harper is a retired counseling professor who began writing poetry during the pandemic lockdown. She has published two chapbooks: (Uncertain Seasons, Finishing Line Press, 2023, and Dreaming the Sturgeon Moon, South Dakota State Poetry Society, 2025).

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