e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l f e a t u r e
e c l e c t i c a
s p e c i a l f e a t u r e
In an ongoing series, the editors, former contributors, and readers of Eclectica have been invited to write a poem containing four pre-chosen words. The words for this issue are wonder, gold, fire, and nail.
If you would like to participate in the next special poetry assignment, the new words are last, held, find, and town.
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)
Chopsticks and Netflix pair perfectly
with whiskey runneth over
Heather M.F. Lyke
the bricks of my house
hold no fire
Emma E. Vogl
One moment we were drinking at the source
Of all that’s free and good, then came the thunder.
Beau Lee Gambold
She was not a woman
who knew the difficulty
of steadying an ever-restless boat
Amy Fair
how like a sponge you hold those stories
saturated heavy with Tragedy and Pride
Becca Downs
Why is daylight so precise?
Christine Potter
The kids at the park don't know it's the solstice,
only that their touch football games are ever shorter.
Jack Murphy
Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve
you can't equate the wonder that you feel
when a doe aims herself like an arrow over
the road with the idea of "lethal removal"
Jennifer Finstrom
Its boughs shelter house sparrows,
its branches bow the sky,
and from the peak of its canopy
it can see for blocks.
Evan Martin Richards
