Issue 139

Winter & Spring 2011

Poetry Brittany T. Perham Poetry Brittany T. Perham

Father

Where the river quiets, back turned

to the sun’s eyeing, father,

father, take back your baskets of bread.

I have left your long-laid table.

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Poetry Brittany T. Perham Poetry Brittany T. Perham

Afterlove

A thousand ships to get here,

I sent messengers to plead with you

across an ocean

I sent desire. When nothing returned

I sent the pale-handed

harbinger of war.

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