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Poetry Winter 2018    fiction    all issues


Cover Elena Koycheva

Bryce Emley
Asking Father What’s at the End
& other poems

AJ Powell
& other poems

Faith Shearin
& other poems

Claire Van Winkle
& other poems

Sarah W. Bartlett
Summer Cycles
& other poems

Nooshin Ghanbari
& other poems

Meli Broderick Eaton
The Afterlives of Leaves
& other poems

Jeddie Sophronius
& other poems

Paula Bonnell
In Winter, By Rail
& other poems

Addison Van Auken Waters
& other poems

Daniel Sinderson
& other poems

Andrew Allport
All Nature Will Fable
& other poems

Marte Stuart
What an Insult Time Is
& other poems

Matthew Parsons
My Father as an Inuit Hunter
& other poems

Emily Bauer
Gently, Gently
& other poems

Bruce Marsland
A once lovelorn bard’s final journey
& other poems

Beatrix Bondor
Night Makers
& other poems

Isabella Skovira
Lawless Conservation
& other poems

Juan Pablo González
Colombia, 1928
& other poems

Molly Pines
The Pillbug
& other poems

Jamie Marie
On the Lake
& other poems

William A. Greenfield
If You Show Me Yours
& other poems

Bill Newby
Tuesdays at The Seagate's Atlantic Grille
& other poems

Elder Gideon
Male Initiation Rites
& other poems

Joel Holland
Dear Gi-Gi
& other poems

Martha R. Jones
How Lewis Carroll Met Edgar Allan Poe
& other poems

Writer's Site

Emily Bauer

Gently, Gently

There is not a power in me

that mirrors the might of a mountain

or the intensity of the ocean.

I do not possess the ferocity of a

midsummer storm.

No. I am subtle magic.

I unfold slowly,

curling around you like tendrils of smoke.

I am quiet magic.

The kind found in the charm of a small town

or on the face of a still lake,

reflecting the sunlight,

making it dance around you.

I will not turn your world upside-down

or inside-out.

Instead, I will wade through it,

bathe in it,

let it coat me so that I know the



of you.


Poetry is the backcountry three-finger salute,

my digits slowly rising from the steering wheel to acknowledge

the only other car I’ve seen on this county road

in the last ten miles.

It’s the small café in a town of 251 people,

the waitress charging me $1 for three cups of

Maxwell House Breakfast Blend,

throwing out a “Hey, honey” at every turn.

It’s deep, dark dirt that makes up the

hidden lavender farm on highway 127.

Iowa soil can grow anything.

It’s the rolling rows of harvested corn,

a solemn sacrifice not so solemn

because this is what they were made for.

Inconspicuous magic.

Things Better Left Unsaid

You said that I was a book

you’ll always wonder about.

I said maybe that’s the beauty of this entire thing.

What I wanted to say was:

I want to be your favorite book.

I want my words forever embedded in your mind.

Your fingertips,

stained black with the ink from my pages,

are extensions of palms that know my weight

as much as your own.

The earthy scent and cracked spine

on this well-loved body

bringing you comfort and joy.

Bringing you home.

I want to be the book you carry with you.

Keep me close.

Slumber Party

Anxiety makes a bed of down and cotton,

inviting me to curl up in her tight embrace.

Depression brings out my favorite blanket,

tucking me in tight,

making it hard to breathe.

I can always count on these two being there.

Being here.

They now whisper to me,

one in each ear,

asking me to stay awhile.

They remind me of how cold the outside is

and how warm this bed has become.

Perhaps I’ll lie here

just a little bit


How the Tide Saves Me

I’ve always felt at peace

while watching the ocean’s tide.

The rhythmic waves settling

a heart that often beats

too quickly.

The constant roar drowning out the

destructive thoughts that

bounce around

inside my head.

I taste salt on my lips,

feel the sand move beneath me,

and I know,

deep within these worn bones,

that I am home.

Emily Bauer, a born and raised Iowan, heard the call of the mountains and decided to answer. She currently resides in Portland, OR, where she is the lead barista at a local coffee shop. She spends her free time drinking too much coffee, eating all of the vegan food she can get her hands on, and writing poetry. She hopes to one day start traveling and never stop. Catch her while you can.

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