selected past writing at 42opus


To His Nephew by ROBERT OSTROM

In my bureau is a matchbox. I am not going to make this easy for you. In the box there are two cloves, a snip of lavender, and a piece of ribbon. Inside the ribbon, a girl walks tiptoe with outstretched arms past the living room. She is my grandmother. In her pocket…

5 May 2007 | poetry, prose poem


Love Letter with Tsunami Diorama by FRITZ WARD

After she left, I found the Collins glass of table wine on the windowsill. It counterweighed the nightbird's absence. After she left the second time, I lit a candle in our churchyard…

27 March 2009 | poetry, prose poem


When Cicadas Sing by BENJAMIN MUELLER

My father sings in German when he does the dishes;

his wedding ring clicking on glass cups and plates,

a metronome keeping a beat for some quiet counterpoint,

muted by the suds, the soapy water, and the singing.

19 March 2008 | poetry


A Bruegel in Vienna for a Friend in Kiev by ROBERT GIBBONS

Nothing reluctant, the singing,

the kissing, the blind

love in rhythm,

in sync with…

2 September 2002 | poetry



The birds I hear don't sound like opera, not

like flutes or piccolos at play. They sound

like birds. Sometimes the birds are all I've got.

There's nothing grand but wakefulness, the ground

I jump from; nothing but the shining air…

19 January 2009 | poetry, crown of sonnets, sonnet, rhyme

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