Poetry – Issue 31When the storm passed Dennis James Sweeney the gulls ate bread from the hair of children who built castles out of marine bone, their parents shrieking at the birds not to be hungry, and the shallow pits hummed a sound. . . .Please log in or subscribe to continue reading. Explore Related Work: Poetry – Issue 21While You Are Shaving, It Rains Leila Chatti Outside the window, its similar rhythms. The pane’s bleary vision comforts me; it smooths the edges of the mountains like… Poetry – Issue 6The Ritual of Season Remica Bingham I. Autumn The candles we burned each monsoon night in August stained the wooden holders that kept them in place.… Poetry – Issue 27•Cold Comfort to Doom Sandra Meek No crops to sow. No shocks. No cobs, no corn’s down floss. No cock’s crow. No stormsto grow. No cool to morn. No blood to spot; no flocks of cotton bolls to lop. No flocks. . .