Clara Burghelea’s featured poet, Elliott Freeman

Raze // Raise

Lift up, like a well-aired veil, the worries and the seizing moments.  Your head is not a thundercloud. The patio, the rocking chair, the lemonade—  rain only spoils paperbacks and electronics. Everyone has shoulder blades that join and pivot, twin ridges that could have been anchor points  for a twenty-foot rainbow-feather wingspan. When it's wet and cold and the earth gives up its richness, anyone can slip into the crawlspace of an old song, something...