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2 Poems by L. Ward Abel

Sunlight from a high window 


shows on the onion 

I am cutting.  

The serrated verge 

and a truth 


peel away through skin 

by way of red clay flowing  

until the spleen shines 


and to the knife 


gives way. 

Heretofore Plenty 


Desperate smallish beaks 

become a frenzied bush 

hungry for marrow, for fruit 


and they lull the rest of us 

matrixed with phones 

out of range from any 


towers built of  

heretofore plenty. 

Our having fled 


leaves only silhouettes  

burned into the wall 

like hiroshima graffiti.


L. Ward Abel’s work has appeared in hundreds of journals (Rattle, Versal, The Reader, Worcester Review, Riverbed Review, others), including a recent nomination for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and he is the author of three full collections and ten chapbooks of poetry, including his latest collection, The Width of Here (Silver Bow, 2021). He is a reformed lawyer, he writes and plays music, and he teaches literature. Abel resides in rural Georgia.


Sleep In - Skinny Bones Remix by James Staub


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