Poetry No. 44 – Katherine Lutz

A la criolla puertoriqueña The water lays flat like A plate of glass ready To rise up and stand Between the sun and me. The sand is a fine, White powder dappling My feet as I walk Across the sandbar like A water bug. On the island of Vieques Where a bomb dropped from the sky And created beaches like the Plains— A flat, people-less … Continue reading Poetry No. 44 – Katherine Lutz