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by Margarita Bonifaz I am by the side fence holding my long dark braids where else? trying to keep myself safe my job back then, still is in the center of the field there   you   are you have gone wild with rage Your red hair is flying your words full of literary curses Your genius went unrecognized except I always saw it So did Mrs. Sharkey she was just so permanently mad at you for being more engaging than her damn lessons You push the bully girl hard She tumbles She reaches for you tears your green sweater the only new thing you own I do not know how we found each other or why we became fast friends braiding each other's hair yours, gold tinged red mine, dark brown we recognized wordless things in the other I am trying to remember how you told me your secrets all the trouble we got in all the boys all the recesses spent inside punishment for our glee I do not know how the hell I lost you in this wounded world But I think of you too often How you gave me tenderness and courage what you saw in me how you protected me from the bully girl and sometimes from myself I met you again recently at Lime Square Poets you were reading one of your poems Yes, brilliant I thought You have not lost your rage your red hair or your word filled talent Margarita Bonifaz published her first poem, Fairy Toast, at age 7 in the literary journal The Phoenix.  During her 32-year teaching career she wrote mostly in the margins. Two of her stories were published in Peregrine Journal: Summer's Dance (1992) and Dr. Mercuvio and the Velvet Couch (1995). In recent years, she has taken her novel out of the drawer and has countless stories just sitting on her desktop. The only reason she is writing poems is so she has something to read on Thursdays at Lime Square Poets. She loves wild geese, Queen Anne's lace, astronomical twilight and believes in the medical value of sugar.

By Catherine Ronan Hermes carries my love to you on winged sandals of desire. In that myth of soaking rain, I steal a thunderbolt. Splashing between dream and reason, I am the beast. Minotaur of your mind walking with hand-spun thread of fate. As huntress, I shear your golden fleece of carnality. Helios cannot rise for three days before our friction draws fire. Pain of obsessive love demands we must drink exile. Eris carries discord as the terrible lizard of sleep. Black bile of memory spits anarchy. We are perfectly flawed humans for now. Tomorrow, we wake in the milky vault of galaxies, and begin again and again and again. Catherine Ronan holds a degree in Applied Psychology and French. Writing poetry since childhood, she returned to UCC to study Creative Writing in 2019. Since then she has joined multiple poetry collectives, performs on open mics, is a member of Debarra’s Spoken Word Team and created her first poetry film ‘Policing Mary’. Her work has been chosen for Poetry in the Park and Heritage Projects. She won the Winter Solstice Poetry Competition, was long listed for Cúirt and highly commended in the Munster Literature Fool for Poetry Chapbook Competition. Published both nationally and internationally, her debut poetry collection ‘ Elemental Skin ‘ was published by Revival and has been nominated by them for the Piggott, Forward and Heaney Poetry Prize.

By Mary McColley And waves combed out the old hair of the sea The froth the blue the mangy strands Above, the puffins, above, the wind tried to pull my hair from my head and marry me to the sea The grass leaned so soft against my skull, I watched slant-eyed birds shelved in their nests, beaks backwards, necks pale, paired, and drowning above the sea-roar, I watched brown wind blow on the clifftops & so much grey dissolved to sky, I watched with limestone in my pocket, put cold hands to my face and couldn’t say anything First published in 2022 by Wingless Dreamer, Sea or Seashore. MARY McCOLLEY is a writer and poet originally from Maine. She has wandered and worked for a number of years in France, Thailand, and Palestine. Her pastimes include killing lobsters and selling street art.