Poem of the Day: Norman Dubie

  TROMBONE   There were carols on the kitchen radio, a late cold night, entering the room while straightening the blistered Navajo rug, I remembered suddenly what the first eight notes of hark, the herald angels sing felt like vibrating through my body that...

Poem of the Day: Cynthia Cruz

  HOTEL BERLIN   In the rooms of a rundown palace You said, Ruined. You said, Princess. You said nothing to me For three long weeks. The color of that room Is eel-black. When I was a girl and still German, I stood alone At the end of the sea. You may have...