ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  February 2006
volume 4 number 1
-table of contents-
  home   (archived)
  featured poets
  Susan Culver
  Melissa Fischer
  Ursula T. Gibson
  Tess. Lotta
  Leslie Monsour
  Katie O'Loughlin
  Stephany Prodromides
  mailing list
Susan Culver February 2006



photo by jerry garcia

    Susan Culver lives in Colorado, where she is the editor of Lily. Her poetry and short fiction have been published in several journals, including The Pedestal Magazine, flashquake, InkPot, and Heavy Glow. Her first full length poetry collection, All the Ways We Could Have Met, is available via, as well as online bookstores such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble.



In the Hands of St. Michael

There was a moment when the river slipped

beneath the old miner's bridge, when the sun

shut its all-knowing eyes and what it missed

was etched in the grip of that murky swish,

my hair loosened from its little clip, fanned out

like an earthen wave, like a wild and russet flame,

my legs replaced by the flesh of a silver fish

and that I grew in this, fed on an underwater breath,

fed on diminishing distances, how the bank flanked past

with a hum, how the belly of the bridge heaved me up,

back to the sky and the sun, to the one simple truth

the world has ever known: anything is possible.

copyright 2005 Susan Culver



Flying Past the City, Past the Harbor

Had there been no jets with their boom and fade, no Main Street parades


any other smile, would I ever then look past my own reflection, see the

way the world will dance.

And would I ever dare the dream: you, out there with your distant

light, my glimmer in the far-reach. Would I believe that hope is the tide that

carries you in, the breath beneath these wings, the horizon where we


water and sky, water and sky.

Darling, there is a sweet and nearing someday.

copyright 2006 Susan Culver



Pass It On

And do you believe

   there is a universal heartbeat,

    that even these dreams of you

    are more than mere dreams,

    are messages not meant to keep

    but to bottle in the whisper,

    to send in slivers, in stars

    to those who ever dared to hope,

    ever looked up in the night sky,

    said, "Here I am with my wanting"

    and do I

    have a right then,

    to hold this utter in, to curl

    around its warmth

    for my own little instant,

    to want only you

    and for you to know

    that even the whisper floors me,

    how it could go

    and never come back

    but that I will rise

    with tears undried, will code

    this secret to a thousand lives,

    hope to find you again in the echo.

   And do you believe,

    and do you believe,

    and do you believe...

copyright 2006 Susan Culver