Vita Poetica | Poetry
He Attempts to Explain His Religion
by Mark J. Mitchell
That the mystery is masked
is given. Names are tried on and discarded.
No one name will answer.
A breeze might brush your face,
just after sunset on the equinox, say.
It leaves a mark, a scar.
God Not Only Did I Walk
by Lauren K. Carlson
I frolicked with fire and flames: the fire, transgression. The flames: forbidden, did not set me ablaze, I invited the heat. With tenderness asked for tinder, wanted touch but would not reach.
White Deer
by Lynn Domina
Not the white of ice-blue glaciers
calving, nor the white of an old man’s beard
flecked with gray and one or two black hairs,
nor the hazy white we attribute
to spirits, even those of us who deny
feeling haunted. Nothing