#5 from THIRTY-SIX VIEWS OF THE LENA RIVER by Diaana Afanaseva

#5
(its reflectings)

A golden river sweeps along the base
of that cupola: the gold convexity, the flame.

But I more wonder what this church is like,
faintly warping on the slow, grey water—

Whose bells must seem a lapping on the ears
that pull one, slightly, just before they toll.

Diaana Afanaseva is a poet born in Yakutsk and raised in Brooklyn. She is pursuing postdoctoral studies at NYU and works as a translator and editor. Her poetry and translations have been featured widely in anthologies and journals such as The Art of Poetry, BOMB, The Nation, and others.

AUTUMN TANKA POEMS by Robert Hunter

     I
You are annoyed
our drawers are full of rocks,
our books of pressed flowers;
but I know what you really think,
and besides, I will never stop.

     II
Waiting by yellow woods
I held the weak sun on my palms:
warm and light,
like your socks you threw me
going to swim.

     III
We reconciled
by a clear meadow stream, though
after embracing
you caught your balance
pulling on my ear.

Robert Hunter is the editor for Detroit Lit Mag.

Haiku / Robert Hunter

This haiku by Robert Hunter describes the enormous silence of the late fall.