by Michele Parker Randall River, when I meet you, I’ll askif the Spirit of God still hoversover. Omen. Symbol. A waypointed by starlings. And when I ask youfor a sign, I mean fool-proof plan.Itinerary. Sturnidae. From the skya cloud shaped like a talon. I search out birdsin poetry, street names, & logos.All, nothing. I interpretContinue reading Murmur


by Michele Parker Randall In the city of God does the sunrise lastall day? Bunched clouds stack a cityscapebacklit in hydrangea-bud & cinnamon,floribunda vapor hues like the queenconch’s inner lip, her cirrus-ruffle edge. Wecan all be found in the ombré of thatone shell. One sky reflects our facesin a twenty-four hour shot. Invisiblethis morning, IContinue reading Commute