Issue > Poetry
Tanya Muzumdar

Tanya Muzumdar

Tanya Muzumdar teaches at North Central Michigan College and also works as a freelance book editor. Her poems appear in Cherry Tree, Cimarron Review, Nashville Review, Pleiades, Prairie Schooner, Thrush Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. A former senior editor of Dunes Review, Tanya has also been a writer-in-residence at Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts.

In Private

Their names appeared together in public.
One was a red cellar door, the other a swing.

Mornings he lit the burner, a rose bloomed in the center.
She cooked them a branch.

One was a votive; the other, an elbow.
In the stove, paper burnt to gray carnations.

Outside the window shaped like a cabin, the straits flowed.
The merganser swam left. The merganser swam right.

She read of gondoliers wearing candle hats.

One was a map; the other, a zodiac.
Nights, they faced one another, near, untouching.

One was a still, black fly. The other, a spider dried to pollen on the screen.
Time hardened to metal between them.

Deep in the day, the lake: propane-blue.

His hat rocked in the waves. She rowed away.
The merganser simmered and dove.

Poetry

Laura Van Prooyen

Laura Van Prooyen
Lilacs Full Of Bees

Poetry

Thomas Mampalam

Thomas Mampalam
Hippocampi

Poetry

Sarah Perrier

Sarah Perrier
Summer Apology