Amazon). I served as editor for this journal. The poems, however, were selected by a jury.
The jar of jelly is Jim’s gift to me,
unexpected after he reads his poems, tells a few stories—
a gift like a wren that flits from musky rafters
to rest on my outstretched finger.
It’s a gift like this afternoon when my son said,
when he’s older, he’ll be able to reach the moon.
[for Jim Bodeen]