Poetry, Spring/Summer 2011

This Rain That Grows

by Leslie Lords Robbins

Sonnet for Lizzie Beth, 13 years now Cream-colored paper tells me I am married on earth to a man. Tattered, rolled up, frayed at the edges. I hold a knot of concern near your birth. Inside me, your illuminated spring embraces, cradles the playfulness of swimming heels and light hands, unlike this heaviness we hold, [...]

Poetry, Winter 2009

Velocity

by Leslie Lords Robbins

For my father, gone seven years now My father, inches away on my couch, sinks his body into cushions where he stays to slow me down with conversations. Rippling syllables, staccato-like words, round his soft ears as he pretends to bend around my life and understand. He sees me, his only daughter with two daughters [...]

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