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Silvia Curbelo’s latest collection of poems, Falling Landscape, has just been published by Anhinga Press. She is the author of a previous full-length collection, The Secret History of Water (Anhinga Press), and two chapbooks. She has received poetry fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Florida Division of Cultural Affairs, the Cintas Foundation and the Writer’s Voice, as well as the Jessica Noble Maxwell Memorial Poetry Prize from American Poetry Review. Her poems have been published widely in literary magazines, and in more than two-dozen anthologies, including The Body Electric (W.W. Norton), Poems, Poets, Poetry (Bedford/St. Martin), and the Norton Anthology of Latino Literature. A native of Cuba, Silvia lives in Tampa, Florida.
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Silvia Curbelo and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
El Patio de Mi Casa
On the last night we go as far as the edge
Time is a figure at the edge of a snapshot.
and name again. The black sky
as if the threat of rain could be anyone’s story.
After the installation by Maria Brito
Ellen Sander, a pioneering rock journalist of the sixties, incubated her poetry in Bolinas in the seventies. She migrated to L.A. and gave readings in the eighties and nineties. She moved to Belfast in 2006, from Beijing. She was Poet Laureate of Belfast, Maine in 2013 and 2014 and continues to live there. She is the author of Trips; Rock Life in the Sixties, the poetry broadsides Craters and Autumnal and the chapbook Stand of Herons, as well as a series of sixties rock journalism collections, Ellen Sander’s Classic Rock Readers, in the Kindle store. She is widely published in journals and anthologies, most recently anthologized in Cross-Strokes, Poetry between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Visit Ellen on the web at www.ellensander.com
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Ellen Sander and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
September North Northeast
The butter yellow finches are drabbing down
Writers, like squirrels, scoop up
From The Moon
–what happens when the moon looks back at us?
shadows chase bobcats
you must be enchanted
darkness crosses your face
this aching pull away from you