All posts by Dale Wisely

Chris A. Smith

Southern Cross

I’ve seen the Southern Cross,
blue-white under the heavens,
impossibly bright,
visible even to my untrained eyes,
and California stars aren’t so different,
just a reshuffling of dark and light,
spilled across the sky,
like glitter on a wide black canvas.

Chris A. Smith is a writer and journalist in San Francisco, and you can find his work at



Steve Klepetar


My cousins built green houses, red hotels,
I bought a railroad or two,

and then my aunt came in with cookies,
but they were burnt,

so we crumbled them in our fingers,
dropped an offering to the scattering birds.

Steve Klepetar has never completed a game of Monopoly.



Fiona Tinwei Lam 

A Brief Ode to Brief Poems

Little splash
licks the rocks,
carries the moon.

Canadian poet Fiona Tinwei Lam has authored three poetry collections and a children’s book and teaches at Simon Fraser University Continuing Studies.



J.R. Solonche

On the Wall of the Hospital Room

On the wall of my hospital room,
above the mirror above the sink,
there is a wooden crucifix
with the figure of Christ in pewter,
arms stretched outward and upward
and forward slightly in benediction
or as though ready to execute a swan
dive, preparing himself mentally,
finding his balance on the balls of his
feet, wearing a strange robe that seems
to give to his back a closed set of wings,
like the carapace that beetles have over
their real wings.

J.R. Solonche is the author of 23 books of poetry and coauthor of another.



J.R. Solonche

My Shadow

After all these many years
of following me around and
leading me by the nose and for
just a minute without movement
disappearing under my skin,
today my shadow finally
introduced himself to me,
but under threat of death,
I cannot speak his name.

J.R. Solonche is the author of 23 books of poetry and coauthor of another.



Frederick Charles Melancon

Apartment’s Sonata

The voice next door belongs
to a former music student,
current banker, whose words
ring staccato in the morning:
legato at night.

Frederick Charles Melancon lives in Mississippi with his wife and daughter.