Peatsmoke
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Peatsmoke
A Literary Journal
BBC Cosmology
BBC Cosmology

Rodd Whelpley



if a human can imagine something,
then the universe has done it,
which explains how every morning I wake
next to you

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 14, 2016Rodd Whelpley
Prepping My Son for Finals
Prepping My Son for Finals

Rodd Whelpley

The question is refrain. Ethan,
each pass through the study list, insists
it means to curb, to stop: will not
consider it as repetition, wants
to argue it’s a breathing spell –

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 14, 2016Rodd Whelpley
Remains of the Drystack Wall
Remains of the Drystack Wall

Jeff Ewing

The trail is narrowing …
all this by the purest chance
no cards or leaves could predict,

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 13, 2016Jeff Ewing
Millennia of Heck
Millennia of Heck

Forrest Rapier

Once, he was the ark’s dove
heckling every animal with a branch out both sides of his mouth

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 13, 2016Forrest Rapier
Fatherteeth
Fatherteeth

Ashley Brooke Dailey

I flick the tooth with my tip tongue
& it knocks against its neighbors.
A sound, like the crack of a knuckle
& the tooth, grown nickel-sized
falls into my palm—

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 13, 2016Ashley Brooke Dailey
Sharing My Canoe
Sharing My Canoe

William Doreski

Thanks for sharing my canoe.
Yes, I drift around the pond
all day, reading and trusting
what I read, tasting the onset
of colder weather, aching for
the affection of migrating birds.

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 12, 2016William Doreski
That All Things Seek an Ending
That All Things Seek an Ending

James Owens

He says, “Clock,”
a little clot of sound,
a hammer blow on something hollow and distant.

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 12, 2016James Owens
Ode to Sitting In the Driveway Until the Song Ends
Ode to Sitting In the Driveway Until the Song Ends

Wesley Sexton

At exactly 4:13 PM this would happen,
every day, which is how
one Tuesday at 4:28,
having heard no key-spike and sigh,
I grew slightly worried and wandered
to the kitchen window to investigate.

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Spring 2020 PoetryPeatsmokeSeptember 12, 2016Wesley Sexton
 
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