Barbara Gabriel COVENANT Willie Delia married for love and a gold ring that whispered her name nights when the man beside her did not. No prophet, she knows what comes, comes. Still, she summons deserter spirits as stars fade, demanding Why? Eleven born of red clay cotton and suffering sufficient hands pricked bloody by a […]

Wild Goose Poetry Review Summer 2012 Poets sometimes get a bad rap for always being down on things. A great deal of poetry, after all, is about suffering, loss, grief, injustice, cruel irony . . . you get the idea. A non-poet friend recently commented to me that poets find weightiness in the smallest things. […]